Hysteria
by ClockworkTea
Summary: "Jane Seymour left the most impression but she wasn't the only one. So why should I have only one of his subjects, my enemies, if I can have, what has Cromwell claimed? A hundred lovers?" - an AU! in which Anne Boleyn really did commit adultery
1. Prologue

*in this AU, George found out about Henry's desire to have Anne removed by accusing her of adultery. He immediately informs anne.*

this is my first time writing so I'm pretty nervous that I'd end up messing things up. This AU really was just a random thought and I ended up trying to write lol.

Anyways Disclaimer: I do not own the characters

*

"It seems to me that the outcome wouldn't be change, no matter what. Once the king," she said with venom and bitterness dripping over her words. "set his mind to something, he would do anything to achieve it, and make it come true." Both Boleyns knew she was saying the truth. After all, Anne did indeed became Queen because of Henry's desires.

George listened to what his sister is saying, terrified of how she would end her words, her declaration, and how he knew his sister would damn make sure to keep true to it.

"If he wants me dead, if he really is determined enough to believe Suffolk's lies about me being guilty of infidelity, then I might as well make true of his accusations." As Anne said those words, her eyes had a glint of its usual charm that was rarely seen after she caught her beloved husband and his whore embracing. Her eyes were filled determination, lips pulling into a little evil smirk.

She was filled with the euphoric feeling of causing his husband unmeasurable amount of hurt, similar to what she experienced, similar to what he put her to, for the last few months of their marriage.

From his insults, pressuring her to birth a son (as if the fault lies to her, as if the fault lies because of her fierce opinions as a woman, as if god would only bless them a son if she was a more placid, more submissive), to him kissing that Seymour whore while she was heavily pregnant with the would be prince of wales, to him desperately seeking a way to have her killed.

" I see no point in continuing to be his most loyal wife; if I would inevitably be a head shorter because of his inability to be loyal to one wife." She said with words laced with so much anger it was nearly impossible for her brother to detect a little bit of hysteria that her words contains.

Despite his fears for what she would do, of her treason, George deeply feels regret that he pushed his dearest, most favorite sister to the arms of the king. He let his ambition become his priority, disregarding the fact that she was in love with Percy and that she would surely end up hurt because she would be hated and seen as the whore who seduced the church's fiercest protector resulting to him turning back to his pope, to his faith, in order to be with her.

Worse though, George knew her sister so well, that was why he was sure Anne wouldn't be able to resist Henry's charm and fall into the endless pit of misery being a fickle king's loyal wife.

And George had known, was sure, from the start that she couldn't possibly be the her husband's only love after they got married, after Henry divorced Catherine and threw the catholic church away.

How you get him is how you lose him, afterall.

Anne was experiencing what the Infanta felt, but so so much worse.

"I... Anne, dearest sister, I know that you will make true to your words but don't you think you are blinded by hurt—," George saw anne preparing to rebuke so he hurried to reorganize his words. "But don't you think— that what you're planning is... Impossible, if not extremely Difficult? For whose man would be willing to risk the possibility of committing adultery with the queen?"

Except of anne making a depressed expression that he expected, he saw her sister's eyes flick with amusement and renewed determination.

"I know a lot of person willing to die to see me fall. So why not take those foolish men with me to hell?"

George thought for a moment. Enemies. Anne would not only be committing adultery to hurt the king, but to also bring down her enemies with her.

It was depressing but brilliant. It was hitting two birds with one stone. It was... An ambitious seduction. And despite it all, he was thrilled.

George then realized something. "Men. You said men?" When he saw her look to him as if he was unintelligent to question her words, he knew, finally understand, her meaning.

Her purpose.

"He had mistresses while I was pregnant. Jane Seymour left the most impression but she wasnt the only one. So why should I fuck only one of his subjects, my enemies, if I can have, what has Cromwell claimed? A hundred lovers?"

George was stunned. It caused Anne to let out a (hysterical) laugh.

"The question, dear brother, should be who will be the first to have the honour of becoming my mistress?"


	2. 1 - George's Thoughts

After hastily excusing himself, George immediately left his sister's chambers. He felt like his mind was swimming with all that his sister had revealed. _With all that his sister plans to do, to commit_. He hoped to god and all that is in heaven above with him that it wouldn't seem to Anne's ladies in waiting that he is very much alike to a prey that was trying to run from his death.

George was sure that he must certainly look a little off, he can imagine his face looking a bit pale more than usual, he could almost feel and trace the sweat just above his brows. It must really be a rare sight for the ladies in the outer chambers of her sister: seeing the ever handsome viscount, dressed in all his finery that befits his station as the brother of the queen, sweating like a pig for slaughter.

He swiftly tried to imitate his usually graceful aura when departing. He kept his act until he was a few corridors away from the Queen's chamber.

George felt jittery. He hoped that Anne's outburst was just that. An outburst; an act committed because of her frustrating situatio, where she only said all of her plans... threats.. promise ( _to commit treason, to commit this one selfish act to make true to her husband's words, to commit this one self-righteous act)_ due to the intense emotions she felt; frustration, anger, sadness, bitterness, hurt, when she discovered that Henry wants her dead.

That the king of England wants her dead; out of his sight, gone forever.

(Out of sight, out of mind.)

That the man she loved for the last ten years of her precious; albeit about-to be-cut-short one if her husband had his way, life wants her to be accused, hanged, killed, for a crime she wouldn't have dared commit.

For she loved him almost as much as he loves himself.

'But the King loved her too,' George thought. Albeit unexpectedly, albeit fleetingly. 'Although it wasn't Anne's fault, it wasn't his sister's fault'. George thought to himself while distractedly walking through the castle. For he knows, the whole court knows, the whole england knows, the whole Europe knows, that the king was a fickle man, that Henry VIII was a fickle man.

And George is quite sure to admit a simple fact to himself. (Only to himself though, for saying it out loud would be treacherous. No matter how true it was.)

The truth was this:

Henry VIII loved his favorite sister. Enough to wait for 7 years; enough to defy his pope; his faith, the world; enough to disregard Catalina; enough to bastardized Mary, who was once his most beloved (only child, _**not a son not a son not a son**_ ) and his pearl.

Henry Tudor loved Anne Boleyn more than he did to any other woman he had known intimately and otherwise. But not enough to rival his love for himself.

(His power, His control, His selfish needs, **_his his his—_** )

George was busy with thinking of Anne's... current situation that he didn't notice that he was no longer alone in his walk to the hallways.

"You seem distracted," A voice coming from beside him momentarily surprised George. "And a little tense."

He turned to the familiar voice of the court musician.

His lover.

George smiled as he turned towards his lover's place beside him. " Hello to you too, Mark."

Mark Smeaton softly chuckled to his response. He found that the sound is quite like the music he plays, but better.

"I had been looking for you, you know." Mark said as they continued to walk, naturally shifting closer to each other. To anybody else, they seem like two regular gentlemen catching up with one another.

They were always careful when seen together in public. They take measures to ensure that no one could possibly see them, that no one could notice their closeness and even hint of a deeper relationship between them.

'Oh god,' The Viscount thought. 'I hope that if Anne decided to act on her words, which I knew she certainly would, I hope she would practice as much precaution as we do, if not more.' His sister is smart, but George is not sure if she has a tack for subtleness and secrecy. After all, she vigorously established herself when she was the King's mistress.

Ah, good ol' days.


	3. 2 - The first one would be

After her brother's abrupt departure, Anne felt faint. She felt like she was drowning in her emotions. George's words... _warning..._ kept on coming back to her, making her feel so many emotions at once.

The most prominent one though, is anger.

'Just... how dare he to accuse me of being disloyal, of being guilty of infidelity when the whole court knows he was the one who has whored himself to oblivion when I was carrying his child,' She then remembered a small detail confirmed to her made her infinitely sadder.

' _His would-be son.'_ Anne thought disparringly. A mother's greatest hurt is seeing her child die before his (or her) time, seeing the child she so cherished not live up the life he should have had. To be taken away from her arms too fast, too soon.

But losing a child while still developing him in her womb almost hurts as much.

Not getting to know what kind of person her child would be. Having no concrete idea. Not having a slightest idea of he would have been, could have been, _should have been._

If only he had lived... If only she wasn't in pain... If... If only she didn't saw that pale wench and Henry...

 _'Thats why...' A_ nne decided, her ire rising once again along with her firm indignation to suceed in her last quest. _'Henry deserves what he will get. He will be betrayed, like he oh so frequently did to me. I will strive to kill his heart, make it as dead as mine when our— **my** son died. Because of him. Because of his foolish desire to stray,'_

 _'He will know **pain**.' Anne Boleyn vowed._

 _[In her mind, heart, body and soul she realized a truth: Henry didnt deserve to be the Father of her son. For he would certainly ruin him like he ruined her. Like how he would ruin Elizabeth when he got to kill Anne and bastardize their darling daughter, her heart.]_

With her new found determination, Anne began to think of her plan and how to perfectly execute it. For every detail must be precise and secretive, up until the end, up until her revelation.

(The plan which would be lead to a one way trip to the tower of London. She couldn't bring herself to care.)

But first, she needs to determine who to seduce first... someone who deserves to be killed and sent to hell with her when all of this is over... Someone who wants her dead for no reason other than them thinking she didn't deserve being queen. Someone who wants her dead as much as she probably should of them.

Her first 'mistress' would have to be...

—

William Brereton just finished dealing with a quite-long meeting with Ambassador Chapuys. The Courtier was currently taking a stroll to the hallways towards the gardens. He was pleased to know that their plan of setting up a Catholic lady to catch the King's eye worked better than expected. After all, that _whore_ made his job easier; for he no longer needed to dirty his hands and murder the child she was carrying; for she killed it herself. Over reacting when she saw her precious husband embracing another.

' _What a weak woman,'_ He chuckled to himself. ' _Queen Katherine was so much stronger, so much more deserving of being queen.. God bless her soul.'_ William thought grimly as he finally reached the pathway that leads to the garden.

As he entered he immediately noticed that he wasn't alone.

Far across his position, he saw the _whore of a queen_ looking at the flowers with a distracted look. He highly doubts that she noticed he had entered the vicinity.

' _She probably wouldnt recognize me anyway, for we rarely see each others faces and hardly socialize at all... I think she isnt even aware I exist,'_ He stepped towards her direction but made sure he was quiet and not doing anything to catch her attention. ' _It's probably for the better too.' W_ illiamthought as he settled to stand near enough to observe her better but far enough to not be noticed.

He remembers the times, mostly during some feasts, where he accidently makes the mistake of looking at the _**concubine**_ right in the eye. It bothers him greatly because he couldnt forget those rare instances where their eyes met. He kept on being drawn to those eyes. ( _Her eyes enchanted him a little too much for his liking.)_ He really shouldn't be surprise though, it the rumours are to be believed, she has _witchcraft,_ which probably makes her too enchanting.. for no one couldnt possibly naturally attract with only a single look. Those eyes eyes of hers...

'..are truly dark hooks for the soul.' He muttered.

He shook his head trying to rid himself of those disgusting thoughts. The way his mind describe her was almost like he was half _in love_ with her.

Brereton was too busy trying to get rid of his (rebellous) thoughts regarding the queen who he _should despise and not admire dammit_ that he didn't notice that his muttered words had drawn the attention of the woman whose the cause of his current dilemma.

A certain Anne Boleyn.

—

 **Author's note:**

So I've never watched the Tudors. I really cant remember the details but one day I just started reading fanfictions about Anne Boleyn and was immediately and certainly HOOKED. ( You are my sweetest downfall, and The Princely Pope are one of my absolute favorites!)

Anyways so I did some research and apparently William Brereton being a little shit aka being an assassin sent by the pope was completely fiction. Buuuuut I decided to just go along with it because almost all of the fanfics I've read with him being an active character was him acting like a douche.

Anyways guys please leave a review, I totally appreciate it and makes me determined to update faster!


	4. 3 - Start

Anne had decided that the gardens was the best place— the _only possible place_ in the entirerity of the castle where she could think properly and not be distracted with something _or someone_ that would trigger her emotions. Her chambers and everywhere else seems so filled with memories of her married life. All the love in the beginning, (— _love for the thrill, the power, the control... love for her husband—)_ then all the despair she feels more and more as the months— _years,_ go by. She left her inner room then proceeded to notify her ladies that she wanted some time alone in the gardens; and should anything important came up, they should simply send someone to the gardens to inform her immediately. She also had to convince Nan that _No, Nan.._ _I don't need you to accompany me, I simply wish to think and take a stroll to the gardens._ _Why don't you play cards with Madge and the others? I will be fine, I would probably come back shortly.._

As she distractedly rethinks of her plans, and the events that transpired for the last few weeks— since she lost her babe— reliving the emotions... repeating it in her head over and over again, she hadn't realize that she had reached her destination until she is standing at the end of the pathway that leads to the gardens.

As she entered, she was hit of a sudden revelation that a place that wouldn't remind her of Henry didn't exist. She walked to the beautifully arranged rows and rows of roses, distractedly touches the petals as she remembers how Henry used to bring her flowers when they were... _courting (_ when he was still married to another and she was just another conquest. She has in love with another _Henry_. The King was still determined to make her his new mistress replacing the previous one— Mary Boleyn, _Anne's own sister_ who also used to... serve the King of France—

' _I wonder if he considers... this as a success... winning the conquest—me— is it really worth everything..does it even mean anything to him?'_ As Anne busies herself in thinking about conquests and worth, she didn't realize that a certain enemy of hers just entered through the same pathway she had walked a couple of moments before. The Queen missed the chance to see the almost comical shocked look that the Courtier sported as he was too stunned to see her in the gardens.

If she did notice though, she would normally have immediately leave at the most not so obvious way.

Her obliviousness to his presence changed after a few minutes though, when she heard an unintelligeable words coming from her far left.

The sound came from a familiar face: a man that looked distinctively a little older, perhaps by 5 years or so but has handsome face nonetheless.

On the contrary to what he must think, Anne Boleyn _knows_ just who William Brereton is. He is obviously the Spanish Ambassor's dog which means he is allied with the Pope; whom Anne is sure to recognize as her powerful enemy; _a very very powerful and influential enemy._

When she started being the Queen, she already knew that she couldn't trust anyone from Spain to not stab her in the back at the most convenient time. But that didn't mean not trying to analyze and measure them up by trying to act as politely as possible.

As for William Brereton though, she knew a little more about him. When they happen to unexpectedly cross paths during the feasts, he would look like she caught his breath away. Then before she could blush or tease him or feel flattered for his attentions, his almost boyish look of admiration would disapper entirely as if he never gave her a look that makes her stomach flutter. This expression would be replaced with a fierce scowl and his eyes blazed with hatred.

Anne always end up doubting ifshe was just imagining those instances. But at the end of the day she always, _always_ _somehow knows it really did happen._

That was then Anne realized something, for a second time that day.

He was her enemy, he is the ally of the Pope and Spain, he probably wants her dead, she didn't do anything against him personally but he despised her so.

He is also attracted to her.

'Perfect. Perfect perfect absolutely perfect!' Anne had found her first 'mistress'.

Anne felt genuine excitement, and she smiled.

( _She hadn't smiled like that in a really really really long time.)_

—

As he finally finished berating himself for his disgusting sentiments towards that _Boleyn whore_ , he noticed— _felt_ that somebody was looking at him. Of course none other than the only person in the Garden.

He slowly looked towards her direction and was then sure that he would die. He was absolutely horrified. _Oh god. She is smiling so beautifully— why is she smiling—_ at... _at me?_

He cleared his throat.

"Good Day, Mada— my queen. How can I help you?" He hope that he is not embarrassing himself too much.

He was suppose to act cooly and collectedly _dammit._ Like he usually would when he sees her during those rare instances.

But her smile... _its like seeing me gives her so much happiness._

He had never seen her smile in such a way towards her husband.

That realization made him pause.

 _'What a whore..'_ He thought angrily. His eyes blaze with his hatred for her. ' _I bet she always smiles like that to other men.. Maybe she thinks I would suddenly fall and bend my knees and worship her like... like a devil. The devil she is.'_ He was filled with anger at the thought of him being _one of those men_ she probably bats an eye on and ensnares.

—

A small frown replaced Anne's beautiful smile. She wondered what he could have possibly thought to make his emotions go from shocked to _burning hot anger._ It made her cautious... and curious... and _excited.._ " _What could possible cause that sudden change? I didn't even do anything to him since he greeted me. I just smiled...'_ She slightly shook her head and reminded herself that she shouldn't let his change of emotions bother her _so_.

After all, she needs him for her plan.

Busy with riding of her thoughts, Anne belatedly realized that her slight shook of head was taken as an expression that means " _no I dont need anything.. from you_ " by William.

"Very well your majesty, if you dont need anything _from me,_ I should go and excuse myself." William said bitterly as turned to leave through the pathway, still feeling angry and dejected for no reason, he failed to notice Anne snapping to her senses and immediately went to try to stop him.

She didn't think, really. She just thought that she had to stop him for he needs to be in her presence in order for her to try seducing him.

So she did what she automatically would. She ran— more like jog, as running is simply impossible when dressed her queenly attire— as fast as he could and reached to hold his hand, to try and stop him.

William froze as he felt _her_ hands curl around his hand. He turned back to see the face of the queen with slightly red cheeks... he turned his gaze to her hands which was holding— _touching—_ his hand. He looked back at her, right in her eyes.

(those dark dark eyes; hooks for the soul, _**his soul**. He _would probably, most likely—if they keep staring at each other like that—beg her to come drag him back to hell, for she was surely a demon to tempt him so..)

The tension was broken by Anne when she asked, "Would... you like to accompany me for a while, Mister Brereton?"

—

 **Author's note:** Soooo I'm sorry if William is a bit out of character or real weird in this (sorry if hes not douche enough?? based on the fics I've read lol) but I think theres really no way to be sure on how he acts—acted in the 16th century. So I decided to just have him hate her and uhm admire her??? _lust/desire_ after her??? I'm not really sure. And sorry if this doesn't make any sense lol but its my first time writing so please go easy on me. And dont forget to leave a review!


	5. 4 - Affair

She was holding his hand. She had asked him to stay, _to accompany her_.

He gazed at her eyes and look at their intertwined hands.

(He distractedly thinks that they fit together perfectly.)

William Brereton was very confused. He doesn't have a clue on to what he should do. He felt like everything else around them; the flowers, the light breeze of the air, the sun warming them up, are all irrelevant. It was like their surroundings had vanished in a blink of an eye and theres only the two of them.. What matters the most is him and her. Right at this spot, holding each others hands.

He was, for the lack of a better word, _**enchanted**_.

To outsiders, bystanders, and passersby—if theres any— it would certainly look like a _ **lovers'**_ sweet, serene moment.

He still can't decide what to think though.

The William from a year or so ago would certainly— undoubtedly not believe a person if he would predict that he would be so bloody _poetic_ and _romantic_ when thinking of this particular moment with Anne Boleyn. It was surely horrifying. It was unrealistic.

It was simply not the way things should be—his feelings should be.

But now... how can a mere chanced encounter in the gardens change his opinion so much?

Why would a simple question change his perspective very much so?

How can she make him hate her intensely one moment then tempt him all of a sudden..

He was a courtier, he was used to flirting and being flirted by ladies; with their delicate _(fragile_ ), and sweet _(too sweet; sickeningly so_ ) words that was all so very tiring. He was sure that the Queen wasn't trying to do that because if she was, then she's doing a _god-awful_ job.

The thought of _the Anne Boleyn_ being awful at flirting and seduction is too unrealistic to be considered as an option though.

It was a simple wish for his company.. after all.

The thought snapped him up from his stupor and he remembered her request to him.

She had actually asked him, of all people, to accompany her.

Didn't she know that he was allied with the Pope? Most likely no, he doubts that she had many spies in her hands... but she knew his name.. was.. was she keeping a close eye on him?

For what _specific_ reason? What she suspecting him of something?

He tried to change his probably distracted demeanor to a more calm one. "Why?" He bluntly asked. No titles; not even mentioning her status as his queen and as a person who belongs to the higher calibre of things (he was technically higher becomes she was just a son of a previous knight, after all). They are still enemies, and he wouldn't let her get in the way.

If she wants his company so much as she would grab his hand, then she should also be able to give him an appropriate answer. ' _An honest one, preferably_.' He thought to himself, wary of being lied at.

She had looked at him then. He was nervous because she seems to be looking for something in his face— his eyes.

She seemed to find what she was looking for because she gave him a small smile. Not the beautiful one that nearly lit up his world, but a more subdued one. The smile he saw her wear countless of times when she attends the feasts with her husband, the King.

Her polite—fake— smile. _Ah_ , she means business now.

/How can he trust someone who even smiles so falsely?/

"I simply want to get to know you, Sir. I feel that spending sometime with you would surely lead to an interesting development of things." she said with her courtly charm laced within her words.

William Brereton raised his brow at her. "I seem to feel like you are testing me and purposely trying to confuse me, my queen. Do you want to recruit me as a political ally or do you desire me to be a friend of yours, sincerely?" He knows he probably sounds too honest— too brutally honest— but he cant just be _suddenly_ politely and willingly talk to her. He was an enemy of his. A hindrance to Mary's throne.

Brereton wouldn't bashfully change loyalties just because of her pretty eyes and small hands.

She was mistaken if she honestly thought that he was that _**easy**_.

The thought infuriated him a little. His eyes twitched but that is the only sign that his calm facade is just that. A façade.

"I can't decide whether you would be a more permanent friend or not, but I know that an acquaintance between the two of us would surely be interesting," she paused as if she's carefully thinking about her next words but she wasn't fooling him. She probably already decided what she wants to do with him the moment she saw him standing in the garden. "Would you be kind enough, sir, to accept if I asked you to accompany me now and we'd get the chance of seeing where this acquaintance would lead us? I imagine that it could really be beneficial, to the both of us."

He weighted the possibilities for a moment, whether it was worth the risk or not. ' _Hmph, might as well_.' He thought.

So he let go of her hands and nodded.

(As the time goes by, he wonders what would have happened if he refused.)

* * *

She was slightly uncomfrotable. He appears to still be lost in his thoughts.

She wonders if he's always this lost when making a decision or because it was her who was asking.

Or maybe he was just acting.

Making her nervous and tense just because he _can_.

She tried to not roll her eyes at that thought. But it was the explanation that made the most sense. He was a courtier in Henry VIII's court so he can't possibly be that... _unintelligent_ to not understand what she said. He also couHdn't be too stunned just because she asked for his company. He was a... _fine_ looking man of his prime after all. She was sure he had flocks of innocent ladies and femme fatales alike trying to have his attentions. So he can't be too shocked about her request— she's not really that beautiful compared to girls like her sister either. Or maybe because she was his queen, maybe that is why— ' _No,_ _William Brereton_ _doesn't recognize me as his rightful queen. That's Katherine to him_ ,' She thought. ' _Makes me wonder who he thinks the queen is now though, now that the precious infanta Catalina is dead_.' She felt a bit smug because her rival was no longer causing havoc and continuous indirect threat to her person and _her_ throne, though that feeling vanished quickly.

 _'I could—would be dead soon, when Henry gathered enough false evidence to accuse me and send me to the scaffold_ ,' she thought bitterly. ' _Though not fast enough until I'll be rightfully guilty with a lover or three_.' She _tried_ to see that as a bright side, at least. Though it is hard when no matter what, she would end up dead because her husband wills it.

He appears to be awakened on his stupor or had began to tire with trying to act dumbfounded, either of those she doesn't really care, which in turn snapped her out of her thoughts. He simply asked her why.

She wondered if he does indeed what to question her about this. To negotiate about this.

In the end she smiled her false smile and decided she would humor him.

* * *

"So I would make an effort to get to know you, My queen," Her title sounded mocking in his lips. She frowned.

"Don't call me that. You don't recognize me as such. You claim to honestly want to try being acquainted with me but you mock me the first time you get the chance."

"Well, if you insist, would it be pleasant to you if I call you by your name, Anne?" His eyes spark with humor.

He finds her funny.

'Well isn't this offending!' she irritatedly thought.

"Of course it would please me, Sir William." She lied to his face.

(She never looked so honest for all her life)

He burst out a laugh that lasted quite a while.

* * *

ON THE CONTRARY, she doesnt know how to flirt. She attracted Henry Tudor because of her dry wit and smart retorts, after all. That's also the reason why Henry Percy loved her so. She was a break from those false fragile pansies his father pushes at him to marry.

She wonders if she needs to learn seduction in order to succeed in her plans though.

Looking at William Brereton's laughing face though, she thought she was doing just fine by being her armed with her usual bratty, snarky attitude.

* * *

It started then. Everytime they happen to go to feasts where they are most likely to cross paths, they would look at—look for each other. As they made eye contact, meanings pass through their eyes. It serves as invitation then affirmation that they would meet later and talk. Just talk, they are still under the impression that after a week of this meetings, they still need to keep an eye on each other.

William didn't realized that he was simply seeking her company for the pleasure of talking with her.

* * *

The whole court got no idea about her and him.

(At least that's what they thought)

* * *

After about 13 days since their meetings started, something shifted. It started when he noticed, and everybody else seem to feel it, _see_ it too, _the entire bloody court for that matter_ , for the two royals are not really subtle about it. The feast was a bit more noisy, with all the whispers and glances, and the ohs the queen and king are fighting. Having a disagreement on something. Having a discord. You can cut the tension with my dining knife!

He suppose that he can't blame all the other courtiers though, for if the last 13 days didn't happen, he was sure to be one of them. Awaiting and plotting to have her further out of the king's favour.

Possibly plotting her demise.

He cringed at the thought of the past him wanting her dead. She is still his enemy and a hindrance to Princess Mary's throne but now he just wants her divorced and sent to castle Pembroke or to the Boleyn's Hever Castle or sent somewhere far from the King's control.

Later, he would try to comfort a hysterical Anne. First, he needs to arrange the availability of a more secluded place because he anticipated a lot of ranting and shouting that would surely be treasonous as she would surely let out a colorful string of curses at the behest of the King of England.

As he busily mentally plans the arrangement of an appropriate place, he didn't notice another pair of eyes that he surely didnt want to settle on him.

(He wonders now if things would still end up like this if he decided to not mendle with her and her husband's business—)

* * *

"How dare he! Threatening to keep my daughter from me! How can she do that to the mother of his child! I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised, should I? He had done the exact same thing with Katherine and her brat! The least the king could do is be more creative and actually think of something different but no! I suppose by the way of things now I shouldn't be surprised if he banishes me to some god awful run-down castle to leave me to die while he gives those eyes to that Seymour whore!" William Brereton congratulates himself for his smart idea of finding a secluded place, for this "offending" things, however true, about the king of england would surely make them heads shorter if they had this conversation in the gardens.

Never mind that she was the only one complaining. Being in her presence automatically makes him an accomplice.

"Anne, we might be in a secluded place and usually abandoned setting but I wouldn't leave it pass some courtiers seeking a good... Good company and a quiet place to find us then happen to hear what you are saying... You should practice some caution—"

"Why should I practice caution when my beloved husband parades his whore every time he could?" Her words are overflowing with venom and her eyes so dark became darker because of her emotions.

Something stirred in him. He awkwardly clears his throat. But an aggravated Anne is certainly breathtaking...

Anne immideately noticed his silence, but not his distracted look. She had mistaken it as a sign that he is giving her a silent treatment.

"I'm sorry.. I knew I had gone too far but... Elizabeth— h-he wants to, he wills to not let me see my daughter—" Anne chokes out a sob she couldn't control.

He cant help but be fascinated with her _dark dark eyes_ sparkling with unshed tears.

He tried— he willed himself to snap out of his trance and tried to comfort his _friend_.

He had let himself really care and worry for Anne Boleyn.

He cant bother with feeling guilty about it though.

He awkwardly encircled an arm to the crying woman. Pulling her for an one-arm-hug. "Anne, do not worry. I would try to— I would do my best to help. Surely the king would realize the error of his way when I convinced him— and my friends, surely I could vouch for their support, to not be so harsh.. It wouldn't be good for his reputation after all. Separating another set of mother and daughter.."

He stopped as he noticed Anne looking to him from his shoulder. She had the most star-trucked and astonished look in her face.

He didn't know what to do. He was lost in his thought again, having this beautiful, _perfect_ woman in his arms looking at him like that— like he already saved her.

He didn't expect her to do further and pull him for a full embrace.

She murmured muffled "thank you"s while she pressed her face to his chest. He put his hands on her hair and slid it to them gently, comfortingly.

After a while, she let go of him. He might have missed her presence immediately if she didn't tipped her toes and kissed him in his right cheek.

To say he was stunned would be the understatement of the year.

So he thinks it was alright to blame his instincts when he brought his face down at the level of hers to kiss her fully on the lips.

* * *

It was unexpected, but she felt genuine affection for him at that moment. She had really gained a friend in him.

She feels the guilt in knowingly leading him on and making him fall for her for the last two weeks, knowing she would never return his affection and she would most likely move to whoever next target she would seduce. _Next mistress._

She cant bring herself to enjoy though.

Although now she doubts her ability to drag him with her when she's sent to die.

(He may not gain a genuine lover in her but he now has a loyal friend in her.)

She let him lead her in for a deep kiss or five— somewhere along those number, she thinks distractedly, and she feels flushed when his hands roam her body.. it is all the same. 'It is my way of thanking him, for everything.'

—

He had embraced and kissed the queen. Touched her where he knows she would be pleased— He touched the woman married to his King—

He was trapped— for he couldn't possibly leave. He couldn't possibly leave her. Logically speaking, he couldn't possibly set her up because she might confess what they've done, what he did to her. Even if some people wouldn't believe her claims of him being her lover—people like Chapuys and _oh gods the pope_ — it would be enough to stir the King to a jealous rage. Even if it wasn't true, having his wife— **his** Anne, name another man, other than him, to be her lover.. Henry would certainly not hesitate to hang, draw and quarter Brereton.

She was willing to risk it all though... all for this.. ' _Why Anne_?' He thought as he slid his fingers through her hair. Enchanted by the silky raven locks that shine so beautifully in the moonlight coming from the small window above their heads.

 _What are you hiding... what are you planning.. what are you **up to**..._

He sighed. Certain that should he ever voice his questions, she would just dodge them and avoid answering it until she achieve her goal.

She had his heart trapped right at the very first meeting in the gardens..

But, he supposed, she may had have it even before that.

He never had a chance.

—

' _So the queen and that dog of Chapuys meet at a secluded place at the time where there's most likely no one to see them— witness them together.. Either they are plotting something or something more sinister, at least for the king, is taking place_.' A figure from the shadows thought as he watched the Queen exit and walk towards the direction of the royal chambers. He shifted his attention to the man he had witness stealing glances at the queen all through the night. ' _I should investigate more. It could be used to further advance Jane._ ' Edward Seymour thought as he watch William Brereton watch the fading figure of Anne Boleyn, not noticing the unmistakable longing in Brereton's eyes.

—

Author's Note:

I can't decide whether to continue with 700-1k per chapter or try to write longer, like the fics I've read. I ended up deciding to try longer so here it is. This chapter is 3,000 something, thrice the size of the usual ones. Leave a review if I should stick with this longer style! I really enjoyed this. I actually think its my favorite one to write so far —Another note—sort-of-explanation-from-me for some details in this is that I watched a documentary once that said it was the queen's job to flirt with her husband's court to boost morale or popularity among nobles or something. But Anne isn't very used to doing that (at least in my fic lol) because she's very aware that half of those people want her dead. Well, she's incredibly smart for it if I may say so myself.


	6. 5 - Suspicions

"What do you _mean_ by she is not here?" The King growled at poor Lady Jane Seymour. Henry had decided to go to his wife's chambers because he wanted to see his angel, soon-to-be-wife, the Lady Jane Seymour; who was back recently from her (exile—) stay in Wolf Hall. He deemed it safe enough to spend sometime with her after that debacle with Anne blaming them for losing his child. As if he was at fault that she could not stand him being with a mistress, that she can not see him practicing his right as her husband and king. He thought angrily.

He even had to fight Anne tooth and nail because she unreasonably forbids him— the nerve of that woman!— to bring back his lady Jane to court when he informed her before last night's feast that Jane was on her way back to the court and was due to arrive during or after dinner. Back to his arms, finally. Thinking of his Jane made him relaxed, (an emotion he hadn't indulge in a while ever since his brother's unexpected death) but it was ruined because of his hysterical wife shouting at him for it, even dared to berated him for it! He knew he had to fight back, so he did. They proceeded to have the most exhausting verbal sparring Henry had the misfortune to partake in.

(The Royal Couple may have also destroyed a couple or half a dozen furniture that are forth some fortune but that is not what matters.)

In the end however, he had won because he threatened that Anne would never see Elizabeth again if she defies him one more time, _just one more Anne and you will see._

She had fled the room, crying.

After that they attended the feast with a tension so strong even a blind man must have seen it.

If Jane asked why he is really here, and if Henry felt like answering honestly, he would have admit that there was two reasons for his kingly visit: one, he wanted to see his Jane and her angelic smile; two, he wants to rub it in Anne's face. You can't do anything, anything at all. _You'll be dead soon. And I'll be married for it. I'll be happy for it._

I'll have a son for it.

Imagine his ire then when he saw neither Jane's smile nor his wife's expression filled with hurt.

"My king, our lady Queen Anne informed us that she would like to take a stroll in the garden with a friend." Jane murmured as she looked at her intertwined hands, afraid of causing her king's ire.

Henry softened a bit. "I am sorry for shouting, my dear Jane. I was just looking for my wife and was just.. Disappointed that I didn't see her here."

Jane looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt and sadness which acted as her nonverbal way asking him of why. W _hy would you want to see her, why don't you want me anymore, why do you love her more?_

He immediately wanted to smack himself for his reckless choice of words. He doesn't want to be the cause of her sadness. He doesn't want her to doubt his love for her.

She reminded him so much of his mother. Seeing her in pain doubles the pain he might have felt when he imagines his own wife and queen in pain. Though he rarely sees Anne like this; weak and vulnerable. ' _She can protect herself_ ,' Henry thought suddenly. ' _Unlike sweet Jane, who needs me._ '

He had always dreamed to marry a woman like his mother. Kind, submissive, and loving to the core. While he secretly wants to be like his father. Strict but loved by the people.

Founder of a new royal house of England.

He wonders then what came over him and he decided to marry his brother's widow, Katherine, then Anne Boleyn.

Anne Boleyn is the opposite of his mother after all. She was bold, determined, and full of fire. She was seductive, fierce, and she takes what she wants, when she wants. She is a warrior, She is intelligent. **She is a woman before her time**.

She was also jealous and a little too determined to prove her point.

(He loves Anne almost as intensely as he loves himself because they are alike.)

 _'She is like him. So much like him.'_

(maybe too much now, Henry might have thought if he discovered that she too, had a lover now)

He decided after the last few months of his marriage to Anne wouldn't do. A woman most like Elizabeth of York is surely the one who would truly be capable of giving England the princes and future rulers they deserved. The future Rulers who would be his legacy, strong sons to continue the Tudor line that his very own father started.

"My Lady Jane, do you mind asking the other ladies of which garden it is that the Queen frequents? After that I wish for you to accompany me." Henry said as gently as he could to not upset the fragile thing of woman his lover is.

"Of course, your Majesty. I will be back shortly and I will accompany you." Jane said, her mouth now turning upwards to give Henry her most angelic smile. Happy that she get to walk with the man she loves, never mind that she would be leading him to his wife.

* * *

As Henry walked with Lady Jane, he wondered just whose friend his wife was seeing.. in a garden which was often desolate.

 _'Could it be man?_ ' The thought made him feel intense anger and jealousy. He didn't know if he could _**not**_ kill her on the spot if he saw her in another Man's embrace. _She was his, his **alone**._

He remembered his dear friend Charles Brandon's words. That she might be seeing someone else _.. knowing them intimately, your majesty.._ At first Henry didn't believe it. For it was simply impossible. Anne might have been full of fire but she wouldn't dare betray him. She was smarter than that.

' _Or maybe she knew he would not believe whatever his courtiers might be saying behind her back, maybe she knew he trust her and loves her too much to think so lowly of her._ ' That thought made him pause. Anne was a true genius if she managed to fool him like that.

At the end though, he had already decided. He wants— _n_ _eeds_ a new wife, so no matter what happens he had to get rid of her, his dearest Anne. _No matter that he loves her._

He knows that Europe wouldn't tolerate another divorcee of his.

At the darkest corner of his mind, he thought that if Anne had a lover, at least she would deserve her death.

a _t least she would prove that at the end, she was **too much** like him._

* * *

A confrontation happened. Henry suspects something is happening; more than meets the eye with his wife and his courtier, he feels intense jealousy and possessiveness like never before.

At the end, he lets it go. Chanting to himself that _its better this way, she could be gone sooner he would have a son sooner, with Jane with Jane oh sweet Jane—but **oh gods** Anne, would you dare betray me so?!_

He settles with keeping a close eye on them both. He _can not_ forgive her if she dares to let somebody else touch her where he was the only one who has a right too. Love her when he is the only one who was supposed to do so. _You are mine Anne, mine mine mine_ _—_

But he knows that if his suspicions are true, it would be so much easier.

So he lets it go and exited the garden with his Lady Jane. Never once looking back to see his wife and Brereton.

* * *

Some days after being confronted by the king, she, along with her friend Brereton ( _and lover now,_ she suppose) addressed the situation that they've both noticed. It had come to the attention of both of them that more people— servants especially, seem to keep an especially closer eye on them, when they are together taking strolls in the garden.

The usually deserted garden they favoured is apparently a new attraction for the whole court.

They decided though, that they probably should continue with their walks because it would certainly be more suspicious when they abruptly stopped when they've been already seen together.

At first the people who had suddenly decided to show up in their garden seem to regard them with suspicion. All of them suspicious of the 'sudden' closeness of the Queen and a courtier whose friends with a known enemy of hers, but she established that she was only "using" Brereton as a means to communicate with Chapuys regarding a possible betrothal for Lady Mary.

She came up with that excuse when her dearest husband decided paid a visit to her rooms only to find out from her ladies that she was just in the gardens talking with a friend.

"William, I think we should try to be more.. discreet when we meet with each other, " She whispered to him as casually as she could as they walk through the gardens. She eyed the lady-spy closest to them, at their far right who seems to be reading a book but steady moves as they go, albeit too far to hear what they are saying. "I know that after what Henry had seen, he would employ spies to keep an eye in us. But this... this people are far too many to just be in the service of the king."

"I know that Anne, I have noticed it too. I have a feeling that one of your enemies is keeping a closer eye on you than most. Closer than even the king's." He whispered back to her. They are walking close but not as close as one would share when _intimately_ talking with each other.

They have been practicing caution, after all.

"Funny though, a forth night ago you would surely be one of them." She looked at him, amusement filling her eyes.

He knows that it was supposed to lighten up the general mood of their conversation, it was said in jest after all, but those words made him feel a pang in his heart. "You know that I care about you now, deeply." He said as he gave her an intense look. Making _damn sure_ that she knows he cared for her and her well being.

Anne's eyes softened as she felt another rush of affection for him. "I know." _Oh, how she knows..._

He wonders if she also knew that she had his heart.

(She wonders if he knew _—understands_ _—_ that she couldn't possibly return his.. feelings for her.)

They walked through the gardens a bit more. Both Anne and William was distracted with their thoughts.

Unaware that a certain Edward Seymour was analyzing their every movement.

* * *

"Seriously, Edward. Here I thought that you were _actually making an effort_ to save our marriage. But apparently I am just an excuse for you to not be too obvious in spying the Queen and _her new-found friend_." He glanced at his wife, Anne Seymour nee Stanhope, who was currently rolling his eyes at him while holding his arm.

"Oh _do **shut up,** wife_. You are just bitter that you couldn't spend the afternoon with your... very own special friend." he answered. He busied himself again with looking for the pair of Anne Boleyn and William Brereton.

"Oh just _how sweet_ of you, dearest Husband. I just wonder how you won the heart of your first wife if you answered her in a similar fashion," she paused as she put on a surprised face which was quite effective if not for her eyes that expresses awareness and amusement. "Oh, I am sorry I forgot.. she probably **_preferred_** the company of your father, no? Can't really blame her though, your father seems to.. possess a sweet tongue for the ladies." She ended with a spiteful smirk gracing her lips.

He fought the urge to hurt her right there, in the gardens, with so many others that could see them.

"How dare you _—"_ He started though he was immediately shushed.

"Hush now husband _— the queen's new dog_ just left the gardens. If you want to investigate further, you should probably talk to her now that majority of the court is leaving as well." Anne Seymour supposed that now that Brereton is gone, the whole charade of enjoying the average garden is over. There was no point in whispering about the pair now that the other half is gone. "I will go back inside the castle and enjoy the day the way I want, I know that you don't really care if I spend it with a special friend." She left his husband there, not waiting for a response.

Edward Seymour let out a sigh. He didn't love Anne Stanhope, and she didn't love him, but she was a useful ally to have. Better have her in their ranks by marrying her than on the other side, he suppose.

She was just so _infuriating_ sometimes, most of the time.

He sighed once again and proceeded to walk towards his queen. Determined to make an up-close observation of _things_ , it would surely help him determine whether or not the situation is to be used in his _—and the whole Seymour family's_ _—_ advantage or not.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

So I made a rough outline of the stuffs I want and by the time I'm finished with this I estimated that it'll probably be like, 20-something chapters. That's me assuming I won't get too embarrassed with what I'm writing and discontinue this shit lol but I've got the ending in my mind and I really want to be able to actually finish this. Don't forget to leave a review~


	7. 6 - Edward Seymour

As Edward walked towards the resting Queen sitting in one of the benches, he realized that he didn't have any idea onto how he would... well, _politely inquire (calling it subtle interrogation would be a better, more fitting term)_ to the famous Anne Boleyn regarding the truth on whether she was really, _only_ , looking for a husband for the Prin... Lady Mary... (—Fitzroy? Tudor?) or not. He just wanted to ask personally if she _really was just_ trying to set up the Catalina's daughter for the last few weeks now. He wants to see her reaction;

 _He was, after all, not sure if it is half true or a complete_ _lie._

He was aware of the _meetings after the feasts_ of the Queen and the Spanish Ambassador's dog. He also knows that, logically, setting for an arrange marriage to a former heir—even if she was declared to be a bastard now— does not take several weeks to finalize. _'There are many men hateful towards the current queen and willing to marry a bastard, after all; she still is the King's first born and supposed heir. (_ _After all, children dying before they reach their first decade are common enough-and could be arrange quickly)'_ _'_ Edward thought as he silently considered what Chapuys would have done if the Queen's excuse wasn't an excuse- but the plain truth. ' _If I was the Spanish Ambassador, I would have immediately push for a supposed to be low-enough lord of a decent-sized land—but in fact very loyal to Katherine of Aragon and ambitious enough to want to be... King Consort. Although easy to control if things turned... south.'_

He just wanted to clarify is all. (Although he _knows, **feels**_ it in his gut that those were all a ruse. That she was seeing Brereton for a very different, _more dangerous_ reason.)

Edward Seymour is smart. Way smarter than his foolish little brother, smarter even than his wretched father. He is confident enough to know that his assumptions are most likely to be true. But he wants to _know for sure_. He is not reckless. He will have to see how the Queen reacts to his questions. Then, and only then, will he use his knowledge to plan for the Seymour's rise in power.

* * *

Anne immediately noticed someone come near her, despite being previously distracted with her thoughts. She looked up and saw the approaching stoic-faced Seymour, the eldest brother of that pale-faced bitch her husband _loves so very much._ _'If I was being honest_ ,' she thought, thinking to herself. Admittedly though, he looks... acceptable; with his formal court attire— _'with every thing in place,' she noted—_ and slicked-back blonde hair. Overall, he looked...very formal. He certainly is one the... pleasant-looking-enough courtiers. (Anne absolutely refuses to call anyone related to Jane Seymour dashing, thank you very much!)

 _'Wait, why was—is he walking towards me?'_

Anne was _certainly_ not someone who would usually be approached by a Seymour, especially the eldest of the two brothers. Thomas Seymour was someone Anne Boleyn had the misfortune to sometimes see when he happens to try his luck with winning the hearts of her ladies in waiting. (Whether to try to make them spy on her person or Thomas Seymour was just honestly trying to get in her ladies' skirts, she doesn't know— she doesn't _want_ to know.)

She looked around the garden that is not so crowded anymore. He surely has an agenda to try and seek her out when no one was around.

She squares her shoulders and breathes in, then prepares herself for a some mind-twisting, _formal,_ talk with the eldest Seymour.

* * *

He didn't know whether or not he should ask to the point, or try to beat around the bush. He knows one thing for sure though. That this Queen Consort of Henry VIII is far smarter than his sister, on par or maybe even smarter than his wife Anne Seymour nee Stanhope. He knows for sure that she will, one way or another, figure out his goal; his goal of seeking her truth.

"You are not looking for a husband for the Lady Mary." Edward stated, slightly amused of the Queen's shocked expression and slight panic, which she quickly tried to hide. Edward smirked, _'Too late, I have seen it. It surprises me that it doesn't take much to shock you, my queen._ ' That thought made him wonder if the queen was truly as astounding manipulator and liar _and dangerous_ as the whole court believes. He will think on it later. (The eldest Seymour failed to realized that this would be the start of his thoughts drifting towards the queen; his sister's rival to the King's affections. He failed to realized that this may be a start of a disaster for him, and triumph for Anne Boleyn.)

He focused on his task at hand and decided that at the end, there is no point in delaying his interrogation when she would figure him out sooner rather than later.

He just needed her reaction, then he would proceed to twist everything he'd known in order to make the situation benefit him and his family.

* * *

Anne was shocked, to say the least, of the words that Edward Seymour decided to use as a conversation starter. She expected him to try and ask her about pleasantries at first then proceed to use twisted words disguised as questions to make her admit something that he suspects she has been doing.

She simply didn't expect his bluntness and straight-forwardness, she realized that _that_ was his intention. He had expected her to not be prepared for his words, which led to her revealing her true reaction; shock and panic of being figured out _this early_ on her and Brereton's charade. A small frown graced Anne Boleyn's face. ' _He was called the 'intelligent one' for a reason_.'

' _At least_ ,' Anne decided, ' _He is by far a worthier opponent that his oh-so-lovely sister; the Lady Jane, who can barely—if not, can not **at all** — participate in a brawl of wits and intelligence.'_

 _('This might challenge me yet.'_ she had secretly thought _. 'William was... oh so easy; so easy that she was rather feeling guilty of seducing him_ —' _)_

Anne then put on an indifferent and a little bit confused expression. She had hidden, _admittedly not quick enough_ , any emotions that she was feeling.

She refused to let her opponent glimpse another true reaction from her. "What makes you say that, Mr. Seymour?" She tilted her head a bit; a perfect picture of a _confused lady who had no idea what he's talking about_. She was good at playing pretend, now that he had caught her unaware she will **never** let that happen again.

He was good with this game but she was not queen for nothing. She will make sure that this enemy of hers would not be able to stand a chance.

She was raised by her father and her oh so very ambitious and cunning uncle, the Duke of Norfolk. They had helped her rise to her position, by not only providing opportunities for her, but by also making sure that she _knows and understands_ the way of life when one is in the royal court of England. They had made sure to raise her to become an intelligent and unpredictable and _desirable_ lady she now is. (She learned and owe them many things—her father and her uncle— but not all positive. Their creation—she— might led to the destruction of everything they have worked for— after all, she was indeed unpredictable.)

 _('_ **—** _ **All women are girls who men make into the things they want of them.** ')_

* * *

Edward quietly observed the infamous Anne Boleyn after she said her retort-disguised-as-a-question. She was suddenly confident, and that change has left a powerful impression. ' _She was able to change her expressions quickly and play the character she wants to appear to be efficiently.'_ He noted _. 'Anne Boleyn is suddenly the one that controls this... discussion,'_ he felt his eyes twitch, the only physical evidence of his irritation. ' _How fascinating, though.'_ He recognized the determination in her eyes, which certainly means that this conversation would undoubtedly result to a headache that would last an hour or two.

Ah, the things he endures for his family.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

So as you guys know, the knowledge I have about Anne Boleyn was based on what I've read on ao3 and here; and based from the documentaries on historians' take on the Tudors.

That's why Anne's interactions with William Brereton was the easiest to write because a) it was the "crack"-iest pairing I planned to write so I have the freedom to decide on which way he would go (he ended up being the enemy-then-friend-to-lover one) and b) theres really no pressure about keeping him "in character" because he was rarely mentioned in the fanfics I've read and the documentaries I've watched. I just had to make him a douche in the start and that was all.

Coming up with a plausible romantic and/or sexual development is **harder** when I also need to maintain the dudes in character when I'm pairing them with Anne so I _might_ really base those interactions to other fanfictions and of course, your reviews and **recommendation**! Please don't forget to leave some!

Anyways the awesome quote:"All women are girls who men make into the things they want of them" is one of my absolute favorite quotes from Volary by venus woman and giant saurian (grayglube)—its a JonSa fanfiction, totally recommend it if you watch/read Game of Thrones/ASOIAF


	8. 7 - Observations

While Edward and Anne were having their talk in the secluded garden, Brereton was absent-mindedly walking through the corridors. As he was walking towards the court room, he remembered his promise to Anne that he would convince his allies to help him _advice_ the King that keeping Elizabeth from her mother would be another disastrous scandal for the whole court and would damage his reputation; for the King Henry is _again_ keeping a mother from her daughter; just like what she did with the Lady Mary and Queen Katherine. ' _But worst_ ,' William thought. ' _Elizabeth is a toddler still... at least the Princess Mary was old enough then, when she was separated from her mother._.'

He wonders if one is ever truly ready to part with their mother. And how come a father would want to get rid of the mother of _his_ child; when the children still needs the guidance of both of the parents. He slightly shook his head. He should not let his thoughts distract him so. He still needs to figure out a way to make his majesty see the obvious. "How troublesome." he murmured to himself as he turns left, not realizing that he would almost clash with another.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, I was absentminded—" He looked at the person in front of him then froze. He encountered someone he did not wish to see right at the moment (—if he was being honest, he never wants to see this man again, if possible—). He almost clashed against the Spanish Ambassador— Chapuys.

"Well well, just my luck. I have been looking for you, William. It seems that lately you have been... occupied," The Ambassador said as he critically looked at the eyes of the now nervous courtier. "We need to talk." He said sternly, like a teacher does when a pupil does something unforgivable.

 _'Well it is kind of unforgivable_.' William thought as he tries to calm himself. ' _I am after all, fraternizing with the enemy.._ '

"I will need to attend to the court soon, Ambassador. I will be the one to look for you then, so that we could have our talk at the earliest convenience—"

"Stop your nonsense, Brereton," Chapuys cut him off while also glaring at him. "I have been hearing just what you have been doing lately and with _who._ The issue can not wait. We will discuss it at _my_ soonest convenience, which is _now_. Follow me." Chapuys then turned around then started walking; clearly expecting William to follow him. ' _I could run..._ ' William thought as he looked back to the direction towards his and Anne's garden. He shook his head then decided against his thought and with a sigh, began to reluctantly follow the older man.

* * *

"I personally think that there is nothing going on." One of the male courtiers in court was heard saying to his friends.

"It certainly appears like nothing but how can one be so sure? Why would the Queen and a famous ally of the... Queen Dowager, _god bless her soul_ , be seen together all of the sudden? it is very intriguing, I dare say!" his friend replied, expressing his excitement by flinging his hands to the air.

"In a woman's perspective though, I must share, I could clearly see that Queen Anne most certainly sees Brereton as an ally of hers now, allowing him to walk with her like that, and quite possibly, even a friend! Imagine though, just when you thought our Queen can not.. surprise us any longer, she does something like acquiring Brereton, with that said, we can assume that she also has the Spanish Ambassador's support!" a woman in the group of courtiers exclaimed, ' _And they say men are smarter than women, if that is true how can they not figure that out easily, it was pretty obvious!_ ' the happy to see the other courtiers' shock.

"How perspective of you, my lady! I did not think of that!"

"It did not occur to me too, what a truly intriguing thought! How come I did not realized that, I wonder"

"Do you think that the Ambassador truly approves of the Queen now?" another asked while looking at the woman. The question made them snap out of their bewildered thoughts and waited for the woman's answer.

"Well, let us just say that the Queen— I mean the Queen Dowager Katherine of Aragon, is now dead," the woman paused, thinking of the possibilities. "It could be seen as Chapuys is now accepting the... Queen Anne's position because the Catalina is now resting in heaven, therefore have no claim as the King's rightful spouse."

The men nodded, deeply thinking about the revelations that they have heard. "Do you think that there is something different though, and more unexpected.. for example, what if William Brereton was—lets say— infatuated with the Queen? Could you see that as a possibility?" He realized his mistake when he saw and heard the gasps from his friends.

"Oh, be careful of what you say my lord! What you are saying could be interpreted as treason! To answer your question though, I will have to ask you, gentlemen, this question.. and answer me truthfully." The lady waited for her companions to consent so that she could continue. "Do you think that the Queen, Anne Boleyn, would truly do such a thing, and with her enemy?"

The men had a doubtful look on their faces but majority of them shook their heads. "Well, if that is so, I wonder who is the gentleman that they plan to marry to the Lady Mary.. any ideas?" One of the more reserved and intelligent courtier asked, knowing that it is safest to change the conversation because it could very well lead to them being a head shorter if someone heard it and... misinterpreted it.

Unbeknownst to them, a close friend— _the closest friend; almost like a brother_ — of the King's had heard the entirety of their conversation. A small frown started to grace his handsome face as he walked away from the group of courtiers. His plan of getting rid of the Queen is failing apparently, if she truly did managed to make the Spanish Ambassador side with her. ' _It can not be... Chapuys supports her majesty Queen Katherine more than I do. It is either Anne Boleyn had done her witchcraft again and casted a spell on the Ambassador or William Brereton is doing this on his own and is leaving the wrong impression..' _He clicked his tongue as he walked, aggravated with the likeliness of his thoughts. ' _Either way is bad, she is gaining popularity; accidentally or not. I would not let that happen, she needs to be divorced by the King so that her child will be bastardized then Mary will be restored to her rightful place as heir.'_

Charles Brandon marched to the corridors wearing a determined look on his face. ' _I will not let that happen. I will put that...whore in her place: certainly not anywhere near the throne.'_

* * *

"You _what_?" the Spanish Ambassador asked. He said it in a tone where he is not asking at all, just like a parent when completely angry at what the impertinence child must have done. William let out a gulp then answered, as composed as he _could_ be, right now, at the situation..

"I am talking with the Queen to consider a marriage between the Lady Mary and a monarch from... Germany."

Chapuys shook his head in clear disbelief. Then glared at his ally. "First, did you just say _the Lady Mary_? You spent some time with _your Queen_ Anne and you immediately forget that she is your princess? Secondly, I cant believe that you actually— I thought that the rumors were wrong, I _prayed_ that it was incorrect but apparently— you recognize her as your rightful Queen now? What happened, Brereton? Have you been subjected to her witchcraft?" Brereton tried to cut the Ambassador off but Chapuys hold up his hand, a gesture which shows that he is definitely not done yet with lecturing him of his insolence. "You are aware, right at the beginning, that what you do reflects on me. Do you know that as of right now, you are doing a disastrous job? You seem to be well spoken to the Queen now which the court sees as myself siding with her! Me siding with her! A terrible, terrible thought! And you make it seem like a reality to others! What will the Pope and the Emperor say when they've heard of that? Both of us will lose our heads! Lastly, you dare consider a marriage between your Princess and a Lutheran country! Just what do you think you're doing?!"

William sighed, already mentally drained with keeping track of all the Ambassadors questions, more so when he started thinking of answers that will satisfy the Ambassador and hopefully not lead him to the truth that William was not seduced, but just fell in love with his queen.

"I believe that by talking with _the_ queen of possible marriages, we would seem less hostile towards her. As much as we do not want to, the Queen Katherine is gone, your grace. We have no choice but... appear to support her successor—"

He heard the Ambassador mumble an enraged "successor!", obviously angry at the sentiment.

"And I chose a possible monarch from Germany because his majesty would not consider someone from Spain, for obvious reasons, and he already considers the King Francis' son for... Princess Elizabeth," he paused, taking a little breath then continued. " A monarch from Germany is the only one they would consider because of Lady Mary's... position in court." Brereton hopes that he sounded logical enough.

"And why would we need to seem to support Anne Boleyn, hmm? She was falling out of the King's favor and we could have easily done something to remove of her once and for all then you go and do something which made it seem like _I am backing her up_ in case something happened! Are you out of your mind? or are all my lecture for nothing?!"

"I... I am sorry, I did not mean to.. But.. but his majesty was trying to get rid of the Queen like he did with Katherine of Aragon. The King is separating another mother and daughter and... no matter what they have done, I think that they do not deserve that, enemy or not. We are good catholic, my lord. And I think—I know that this is what we should do. No mother should be separated with her child." He said firmly.

As Chapuys looked at him, he opened and closed his mouth; seemingly undecided whether he should or should not berate him or agree with him.

"You have learned it seems— but you have not learned enough, William. But you do have a point, no mother should be separated to her child like what our Queen Katherine, may her soul be at rest, experienced." He looked at Brereton then sighed. "I will let this go, just this once. But make sure that what you are planning is just a temporary betrothal, nothing permanent. We should just use this opportunity as a way to make the King realized that the Princess Mary is at the marriageable age and is a woman now; capable of leading... if something happens. And next time before you do something drastic, consult and inform me first. Are we clear?"

"Yes, your grace. Thank you." William sighed then smiled at his mentor.

"And be careful. There are others that believe that you could be involved with that woman in a _disgraceful_ manner."

He gulped and nodded. "I will be careful." He was glad that the Ambassador did not notice that he didn't deny being involved with the queen.

"You should go and attend to the court. I think I will go and visit the Princess at Hatfield."

* * *

William belatedly realized that he just convinced the Spanish Ambassador to reluctantly side with Anne, or at the very least got him to not actively support the idea of separating her with her daughter. He smiled to himself then, happy that he had made progress; albeit accidentally.

* * *

Charles Brandon observed the infamous Anne Boleyn and Edward Seymour—how unexpected— talking in the gardens. It seems to him that Anne was truly trying to have courtiers side with her.

'I will not let that happen,' He thought angrily. 'You will fall and you can not do anything to stop it.' He glared at the woman who often occupies his mind. He watched as the elder brother of Jane Seymour bow then walk away from the Queen. He turned to her direction once more, preparing to glance at her before he leaves only to catch her also turning to look at him, making eye contact with each other unexpectedly.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Please don't forget to leave a review and recommendation!


	9. 8 - Nuisance

_**"You are not looking for a husband for the Lady Mary."**_

 _ **"What makes you say that, Mr. Seymour?"**_

Edward Seymour internally sighed, ' _Might as well make the most out of this conversation,'_ He miserably thought as he prepares himself to look as composed as he _should_ be. It was exhausting to try and think while experiencing the beginning signs of a _tremendous_ headache. ' _I also had to come up with possible smart retorts of my own, to make it seem like I could also retort the way she does, to make it seem like I still had even an ounce of control in this conversation_.'

He knew that he was undoubtedly amazed and obviously left speechless with her retort-disguised-as-a-question, so he decided to not further make himself seem like a simpering fool by sputtering nonsense that he did not think about, instead, Edward let the question hang over them, taking time with focusing on what route of action he should take. ' _Hmmm should I be passive, aggressive, or simply assertive_?'

He decided to be the former.

"You have been spending too much time with Brereton to simply be arranging a marriage." He said, making sure that he appears as unaffected as he want. He saw Anne Boleyn smirk a little, which made him irritated a little bit more. Her smirk clearly means that she had expected him to say something just like what he did.

"It has been not long at all, I have only just began talking about the possibilities with Sir Brereton. We had only started talking a little over a week _ago_

You are lying. I know for a fact that you have been... _seeing_ him longer, talking to him longer than you claim to do." Edward cut her off. Anne paused, coming up with the most logical and closest to the truth response.

"How come you see yourself _privy_ of such information?" Anne paused, making it seem like she had just come to a realization. "Have you been _spying_ on me, my lord?" She asked then made her eyes widen for good measure. She hoped that she looked like a scandalized and bewildered lady, and not just like Elizabeth; when she does her cute little shocked expression.

She wonders what her father would say if he knew that her inspiration for acting like she did was based on what she saw her child do. (He would probably think along the lines of ' _I raised you to be cunning and smart; and the most creative reaction you came up with was mimicking a child no older than three?!_ ' She chuckled inwardly at her imagined father's expression. _How clearly disappointing I am_ )

Edward just blinked at her expression and question. _'Is she always that obvious?'_ He wondered. "I am simply paying attention, my queen. I noticed that you have been looking at each other more often during the feast. You two are also more civil towards each other, seemed to no longer be after each other's throats when you happen to accidentally look at one another," he paused. "Although now that I think about it, those times where indeed rare." Edward then eyed her critically. "It was like you are no longer hiding from each other now, for more or less three weeks now."

"How observant of you, although the way you said it seems to imply that you think I was previously avoiding the courtier like the plague." Her joke was met with a serious expression that plainly communicates to her that what she said was true. She let out a huff at his expression. ' _I was certainly_ not _like a child! Avoiding enemies like that, like I was afraid of them! Brereton was the one who was avoiding me, not the other way around!'._ She glared at him then decided to not let 'her impression' in his view distract her so, she will deal with later. ' _But that Seymour thinks I'm childish_

"Well, you are not wrong. I had been talking with him approximately for three weeks. The first two weeks was quite difficult because he kept on pushing for a Spanish match _— even a royal one_ for my husband's _bastard_. Which we both now that his majesty the King will surely not agree with. It took time but I convinced him that a match with another country would be best; for all our sakes."

The eldest Seymour raised his eyebrow at her. "And which is this _another country,_ per se?" The question made Anne pause a little but decided to settle with the most logical answer: What her answer would truly be if she was _truly_ only _talking_ about _marriages_ with William.

"You, Mister, are in no position to ask things of me, but since you seem to die of curiosity, I will answer you. The country we are considering is Germany. We had been keeping an eye for the Earls, Marquesses, Viscounts and even _Dukes_ that would be most suitable for the Lady Mary. The fact that the gentleman chosen would be certainly be a Lutheran caused an issue but I have no doubt that I will see an appropriate arrangement through." Anne confidently said, lying to Edward-stoic-Seymour's face while looking at him right at the eyes. She was proud that her excuse was quite plausible. So believable in fact, that she was actually considering the possibility of sharing this excuse to William and see if she could pull it through. If she succeeded, she didn't just made a reality out of her excuse _—making their heads a bit more safer_ but she also succeeded in sealing Mary Tudor's faith as a woman wedded to a protestant husband of another country, certainly not a fit for her envisioned husband to steal England with.

Although she would also make sure that the Lady Mary would not be harmed. No daughter of Henry _—of any one_ deserves to be hurt by the man that was supposed to protect her, _love and cherish her_. Mary would find comfort, security, stabilityand hopefully, love. Anne would make sure of it, just like she would make sure that even if she died, Elizabeth's throne wouldn't be stolen from her; not by her half-sister or not by any other _brat_ Henry would sire out of that meek lady Jane or some other lady.

Edward seemed to process the information she had given him greedily. "Hmmm, I believe you, your Majesty. I ask for your forgiveness for my uncalled for behavior but if you would be so kind to _please_ let me ask another question though?" Edward said with a straight face, but his eye twitch was quite apparent for Anne Boleyn. She took it as a victory. Even he seem to see no flaws with her supposed plans for Mary.

"Ask away."

"What does his grace, the Spanish Ambassador thinks?" Edward Seymour's eyes had a glimmer of satisfaction when he looked at her face, clearly not missing the twitch of _her_ eyes; the only visible sign of irritation.

( _It was weird that they had the same quirks_ , he thinks)

"Actually, I am not sure if he was informed of our conversation or not. But you and I both know for a fact that the Spanish Ambassador trusts his grace's intuition, so I would not worry much. I had no doubt that he will be _— if he wasn't already_ informed with everything regarding our talks. Do you have any other questions, Master Seymour?" Anne asked, her voice laced with false sweetness; just to make him more aggravated.

Edward knew that her question was again disguised as a retort and also a dismissal. He furrowed his brows at her before bowing. "That is all, your majesty. I am sorry for taking much of your time

"Oh it is alright, no trouble at all. It was quite refreshing to talk with you, Master Seymour. I wouldn't mind talking some more with you, but I am sure that you are also quite busy, with May Day coming up." Edward nodded and looked at her. He furrowed his brows again and seemed to be in concentration then he decided to say what he wanted.

"Please call me by my name, your Majesty. Edward, Edward _Seymour_ , my queen. Master Seymour is my father. It is quite... uncomfortable to be addressed like that."

Anne gave a heartily laugh at that, apparently very aware of his irritation when linked to his Father. "Very well then, Edward. I hope I could see you and talk to you soon." She then gave him her signature half-smile, half-smirk. Edward looked her in the eyes then proceeded to walk out of the garden, leaving the Queen alone.

Or so he thought.

* * *

Anne Boleyn watched as Edward Seymour took his leave using the other exits of the gardens, the one leading to what she guessed as the one nearest to his family's chambers in the castle. He undoubtedly would immediately share what happened here in the gardens to his siblings. Anne externally sighed when she is sure that he is out of sight.

The Queen admits that living in the court and experiencing the thrill of the courtly life was indeed very exciting, but it was also very exhausting especially when all she did was fight for her place here. She likes being in power and on top but it was getting too draining to always stay on her guard in order to not be called weak and undeserving. She admits that a quarrel with an intelligent courtier was a little refreshing but it is still fighting, nonetheless. She feels like all she had ever done in her almost 10 years here at the English court _— seven years as a pseudo queen and three for being an actual one_ _—_ is try to keep her throne and her place in Henry's side. She wonders if all the fighting had been worth it, _or at least worth something_ after all.

Anne looked at her hands then decided that she could possibly stroll around some more, to relax her mind and possibly indulge in her rare self-reflection also self-relaxation routine, then go back and attend to her queenly duties with her ladies, but when she looked up then turned around, she was looking right at the eyes of someone that was responsible for making the majority of her life in court difficult.

 _Oh god, of all the people you decided to confront me again today, why is it Charles Brandon?_

* * *

"Well I didn't know that you're well acquainted with a Seymour." Charles Brandon said as he approached the queen. A smirk still occupying his face.

Anne rolled her eyes at the man. "And what do you presume to know about me, _your grace_?" She replied, voice filled with spite and irritation.

Brandon only smirked more, _which Anne thought was impossible_ —, he seemed pleased that he had manage to get a reaction out of her. Anne glared as she thought ' _What a nuisance—_ ' " I know for a fact that you were not well acquainted with Brereton until about a few weeks ago." He put his hand close to his mouth, mimicking some statue who was supposed to be thinking. "I think I see a pattern, your Majesty. Hmmm, first Brereton, _and then_ Seymour. Care to enlighten me, your majesty? Just what are you doing?" He asked, his incredibly infuriating expression still lighting up his face. ' _He must think he's so clever, that son of a—_ ' Although when Anne paused, readying herself for a snarky retort, she looked directly at her enemy's eyes then noticed that when she looked more closely, there is clear intense anger in his eyes, which made Anne confused _and_ curious.

 _'Why was he feeling so much anger?'_

Anne snapped out of her thoughts and notice that there is minimal distance between their person. She stepped back. Wanting to be far from him.

"I do not need to report to you, your grace. I only share my business with my husband.. and that is only when he asked." She wore a confident smirk as she replied, then proceeded to turn around, preparing to walk away from him.

She didn't see the vexed expression that graced his face when she dared to turn her back on him.

Charles felt a weird urged that made him want to pull her close to him and remind her of her place. He ignored it and settled in crossing his arms then saying, "If you are trying to earn favor, you are wasting your time. No matter what favors you probably asked the courtiers to say.. Henry doesn't love you. Not anymore." _So he will get rid of you_ was left unsaid.

Anne paused for a few moments then slowly looked back at him, he expected to see an angry expression or even a pained one which meant that he had struck a nerve. Instead, he saw her looked at him blankly, with no emotion at all. Almost as if she was not affected or had realized that fact long before he did.

Perhaps she did. Henry is not really shy in showering the Lady Jane with his attentions that Anne previously held.

Charles held his breath as he waited for Anne to say something, anything. Instead, she seemed to be looking at him; like she was trying to uncover every thing about him, every deepest, darkest secret. Her eyes seem to devour him while searching for everything that made him _him._ It made Brandon feel uncomfortable.

' _What a beautiful set of eyes,_ ' He thought. ' _Such a shame that they belong to her_.' If it was any other woman, he would openly admit that it was the most stunning set of eyes he had seen. ' _Truly dark eyes to hook the soul..._ '

"I am doing no such thing, your grace. I am not trying to survive. Not anymore." She said sadly, and a bit shakily, shocking Charles to the core and making him feel guilty... and concerned. She sounded like she has done everything and was done with everything, and would only be living for a short amount of time.

 _(Perhaps that was true.)_

"You sound so melancholic, your majesty. It doesn't suit you." His neutral reply made her smile a little.

"If you were the one in my shoes, would you feel otherwise?" After that, Anne began to turn around and she continued to exit the garden.

Charles Brandon was left standing there. Confused to what Anne was implying. The words _'If you were the one in my shoes, would you feel otherwise?'_ seemed to be repeated over and over again in his mind.

It followed him for the rest of the day, everywhere he go.

It was unsettling. Truly. What she said seem to shake his world.

She sounded like how a depressed and lost soul would. It was unnerving because Anne Boleyn wasn't like that, _never_ like that. She was strong, determined and full of fire.

What he saw though, was like a glimpse of a broken woman.

* * *

Anne fought back the urge to cry. The nerve of that man.. to dare and say _to her face_ that her husband no longer loves her.

What he said may be correct but that does not make it _**okay** to say that right to her face_. He doesn't have the right to say it, _proclaim_ it out loud, even if they're alone. He does not have the privilege of saying truths to her face, truths that she does not want to hear. Only her father and her uncle and her husband have the right to do that to her. Only their criticisms should matter to her.

So why was she feeling so emotional when that... that _jerk_ stated his opinion that nobody absolutely asked for!

Anne walked through the corridors in a more furious speed compared to her usual absentminded strolls or purposeful walks, wanting— _needing_ to get to her chambers soon.

As she continued her tiring journey to reach the comforts of her rooms, she absentmindedly remembered the Duke of Suffolk's words. His words ringing in her ears.

' _You sound so melancholic, your majesty. It doesn't suit you.'_

Anne scoffed at the memory. As if Brandon to see anything else but her distressed expression. If he truly, whole-heartedly, think that her melancholic mood does not suit her at all, then he should have not caused about a third of my distress!

"Your majesty—uffff!" Anne was as absentminded as she could probably be, that is why when Mark Smeaton tried to greet her, she walked straight to him. Starling them both of their senses.

"Oh, I am sorry Mark! I did not notice you, I was too focused on my thoughts I did not pay attention to my surroundings." Anne apologized repeatedly, obviously embarrassed of her behavior.

Mark Smeaton scratched the back of his neck and laughed softly. His laugh was like bells and oddly sounded a little more feminine and lovely. Anne felt a bit envious, she thought that her laugh either sounded like she was mocking someone or like she was faking them. "Anyways my Queen, I heard from your brother, the Viscount of Rochford, that you've been busy lately and was constantly in need of a little entertainment. He recommended that I should try and see if you are free of duties for a while and try to relax you with a song or half a dozen. Whichever you'd want." Smeaton softly said as he gave her his trademark beautiful sleepy smile.

Anne felt extreme gratefulness for having a thoughtful brother and a kind-hearted musician for a friend. "Alright. But can you also ask a lady of mine to send for William Brereton?"

Mark Smeaton looked stunned, and he tried to hide the worry from his features. After all, Anne did not know just how much he knew of her situation. "Are you sure, my Queen Anne? What would the King say—"

"Oh it is alright. I will have to talk to him a little then I would also send for my Husband. I think I have came up with the best suitor for the Lady Mary."

Anne was determined to not let what Charles Brandon said to her _deter_ her so. She had to focus on making her _brilliant_ _albeit new_ plan come to fruitition. She can not waste any time for people like the Seymours—particularly Edward— already doubts the credibility of her meetings with the right-hand man of the Spanish Ambassador. She would focus on things that matter: mainly preparing for Elizabeth's life after she left this world.

* * *

Author's Note:

Y'aaaaaaall I just want to share that its our Christmas Break, so I'll either be updating more frequently or I'm gonna be busy celebrating the holidays and all that jazz then probably forget about this fic till next year. Please don't forget to leave a review and some recommendations!


	10. 9 - A Suitor

Jane Seymour nervously walked towards the main court room, looking for a certain courtier that the... _queen_ summoned in her chambers. She was a bit jumpy because it was the first time that Anne Boleyn actually made her, well, _do_ something. Her majesty only ever tells her to do the most easy of tasks, not time consuming at all; an obvious effort to not make Anne bare her presence longer than absolutely necessary, but after the... incident with the King which led to her losing her babe... her majesty pretends to not see her and her loyal ladies only ever smiles at her face and basically tells her to politely... ' _fuck off'_ and not show her face to her majesty **anymore**.

(' _Don't you even have a slightest dignity left in your body, you seywhore? Her majesty doesn't want to see you ever, at least with your pretty empty head still attached to your body...'_ the words uttered with so much venom often echoed in her mind. _)_

She feels guilty about it, her actions and what they caused, but it was not... _only_ her fault. _Why were they only blaming her? Was she supposed to know better? What did they expect? That she resist? Resist the man who showered her with so much more than she deserve..?_ If she was given the chance to go back and change the past, she would not do it. Instead she would relive the moment and _relish_ it even more. She a woman who is young and in love, and the man her heart beats for _—_ _the king!_ _—_ loved her back.. so she would not regret anything _—for **this** is worth it_. Was it a truly so disgusting to be happy when the man she loves holds her so? Can the queen truly blame her when she acted the _exact same way_ when she had done the same once, to dear poor Catherine of Aragon?

(' _It is different, my dear sweet innocent Jane. Catherine could no longer give the king an heir, but Anne_ _—oh fierce ambitious Anne— was heavily pregnant at the time— A child's life was ended before it even fully began, my child—how could you withstand that? Knowing that it is partly your fault—_ _'_ Her long dead mother seem to advice to her in her mind _—softly guide her like she used to_ , but she ignored it. One had neither time nor care for ghosts anymore, when one lives a courtly life.

Despite not being regarded to be as smart and determined as the rest of her family, she had inherited a potent family trait: ambition . Her ambitious streak is a part of her, alongside her natural meekness and shy and kind aura. Her personality is like a complex brew between kindness and selfishness _—making her sweet kind and loving but also prideful, ambitious, and self-centered_ _— family centered._ And well, she likes to think that the King had seen all that. He had seen that she is not what her enemies and family seem to think her to be, she is much more than that; she _**is** _Elizabeth of York come again _—_ )

Jane's mind focused on the situation again when she spotted the ally of the Spanish Ambassador. The Seymour woman lifted her skirts then approached the courtier. When she got close enough to him, she decided to call out to him and introduce herself. "Uhm, excuse me sir. You are Master William Brereton, am I correct?" She waited for him to nod before proceeding. " I am the Lady Jane Seymour, one of Queen Anne's ladies. She had sent for me to come and find you and also tell you that she needed to talk to you at her chambers. I believe it is regarding a proposal being decided to finality."

Jane was not the most observant individual, so he did not notice the mixture _panic, pain and fear_ that William Brereton oh-so-clearly expressed in his eyes for a few moments.

* * *

The soft music of the viol was heard and appreciated in Anne's outer chambers. She watched her ladies prepare the room for her visitor, her 'new-found-friend' according to the gossip of some of her ladies and the entirety of the court. The Boleyn woman closed her eyes for a bit, inhaling deeply then exhaling slowly, ' _at least, that is what the rumors being spread around court: that Brereton is my new ally now and therefore Chapuys is also at my side. At least it is positive and nothing to worry about.._ ' She tried to feel grateful because after all, the rumors are innocent enough and not at all sinister. If she was not lucky, perhaps rumors would likely be worst, she imagined some unfortunate scenarios where the gossip about her and William would be more like ' _there is something going on with her majesty and that courtier',_ ' _I bet they are planning treason'_ , or worst, ' _Oh, they seem_ so _in love_.' She tried to feel contented, really she did, but these attention and scrutinization is getting in her nerves. The stares and whispers make her anxious; a feeling which is absolutely not wanted and not good in her current situation.

The entrance door to her chambers opened and revealed a fretful Lady Jane Seymour. After she went inside, William Brereton also entered, following the lady she sent to fetch him. He looked so uncomfortable and awkward, Anne thought. She smiled softly at him, wanting to make her friend feel better. "Your, majesty, here is Master Brereton, as you've requested." Anne watched her bowed figure, as Jane Seymour was waiting for her dismissal. She waited a second or two before thanking her and assigning her a new duty, one which _she_ would surely want.

"Thank you, Lady Jane. I would also ask of you to also go and get my husband, tell him that I have a proposal for him, concerning his natural child, the Lady Mary."

Jane Seymour seemed to froze while she looked at Anne with a stunned and unsure expression. Whether is was an uncertainty with Anne's requesting her of fetching the King or maybe because she appeared to have decided on the Lady Mary's future suitor.

Anne waited for the Seymour girl to snap out of her senses but Anne was getting impatient, the lady was simply too stunned to move and do her job, apparently. "Are we clear, my Lady? Can you please go and tell the King that I would like to see him _now_?" Anne used a patronizing tone when she addressed the distracted lady, her tone was also filled with half-hidden irritation.

"I apologize, my Queen. I will go now and inform his majesty now, My queen." Jane immediately bowed then hurriedly left her chambers. Anne looked at her other ladies and motioned for them to entertain themselves. ' _It is not your business, do not eavesdrop_ ' her eyes seemed to say as she looked at them one by one. They all bowed then and proceeded to go to the other side of the room where there are books to read, and couches where they could gossip all they want about the development regarding the marriage of Lady Mary Tudor.

"Come, Master Brereton. I have come up with the most brilliant idea while I was strolling around the gardens after our conversation this morn." Anne motioned for him to sit at the chair located opposite to her. She longs to call him William again, he is after all, her friend, but she also knows that calling him by his christian name is too suspicious. William stared at her as he began to sit. 'What are you doing?' his eyes seemed to asked her. 'Trust me.' She replied with her gaze. He then nodded a little, too inconspicuous for anyone else too see, everyone except Mark mayhaps, but Anne is not worried with Smeaton seeing their non-verbal communication; Mark is also her friend, and she trusts him.

"We had been... discussing about a possible match from someone in... Germany, if I recall correctly, my Queen?" William formally replied, sounding as if they had truly been speaking about possible suitors for Mary. Anne genuinely smiled at him, _thank god he is a believable liar and thank god that he had the foresight to innocently asked about which country it is. If we were not matched— for example he said a 'wrong' country name— I could correct him easily by answering his question while seemingly just reminding him of our previous discussions.'_

"Yes we were indeed talking about the possible matches from Germany. As I was saying, I think I have found the best possible candidate for the Lady Mary's hand." She paused, looking for a sign _— any sign_ _—_ that he disapproved, that he would not want to continue this charade anymore. William Brereton only stared, waiting for her to continue. SO she did. "I am recommending that we formally consider Philip of Bavaria as possible consort for Mary. He is unwed, owns a state in lower Bavaria, which according to my informant, was called Palatinate-Neuburg. He is a duke, therefore a rank _obviously high enough_ for the King's Bastard." Anne obviously did not have an informant. When she had reach her chambers alongside Mark, she immediately asked her ladies to seek the most recent book from Germany that contains everything regarding their lands, dukes, and also the political disputes that occurred in the last three decades. It took a while but it was worth it. She had found what she imagined to be a perfect match for her... step-daughter.

She would just have to make sure to meet this Duke personally to see for herself is he was unfitting, e.g. too ambitious or too sadistic, or down right too Lutheran for Mary's taste.

"He... sounds, well, _acceptable_ I think. But you _know_ that I had talked to Chapuys and he said to not make anything permanent while he visited the Lady Mary in Hatfield." William secretly gave her a new information again: the Spanish Ambassador now knows and so far, he approves. Anne felt herself breathe more, like a huge weight was lifted from her tired shoulders. This is going better than expected _—_

The door opened _again_ and in was the King Henry VIII who entered first, covered from head to toe of his fine jewelry and clothes, closely followed by the _Mistress_ Seymour, who looked, well... plain as day, albeit she still had her own allure going on. Brereton and the ladies rose to their feet then he bowed as the King waved his hand at him, gesturing for him to sit down immediately, and then proceeded to sit casually at one of the couches. "You called for me, wife? Seems like you have decided on which random man to give away _my_ daughter to." Henry smiled when he said his opening remarks but was also not bothering to hide his obvious irritation and anger towards her.

Anne Boleyn saw William Brereton and some new ladies of hers flinched at the blatant accusation. Mark Smeaton didn't react and continued to just play his instrument; after all, he had the misfortune of being there when the King and Queen argued, and those times are _frequent to say the least_.

"I thought, and the Master Brereton with the _backing _of the Spanish Ambassador, that the Duke Philip of Bavaria, who owns a state and is a Lutheran, will be a suitable match. Although the later insists that we set nothing permanent." Anne Boleyn said a little too smugly for Brereton's opinion. She seemed to rub to his majesty's face that she apparently had the Ambassador's support _now_.

 _'It was like she really aims to piss the king off...and he won't back down.'_ was what the observers thought of the conversation between King and Queen.

"Well, that just sounds like Chapuys, does it not?" Henry rolled his eyes as he said his retort at the ambassador's expense.

Anne chuckled then sent her husband a smile. "Indeed, indeed. Does he sound promising to you? Or should we dish out more of his accomplishments and what not?"

"Indeed he sounds acceptable enough, although we should do everything to make sure that he is deserving to have my precious _pearl_. It is not everyday that I give away a child, even a bastard such as she." Henry's smile left his face as he said the last sentiments. "We need to make sure that we take this opportunity to be as politically savvy as we could be." He clenched his fists as if he was truly dreading the day when he'd had to sell off her daughter like a brood mare, as if he was a **_good_ **father, _as if he didn't recently threatened said daughter to charge her of treason and send her to the block if she did not recognize his authority._

Henry VIII is truly a hypocritical man.

Anne and Brereton noted simultaneously. "I will prepare a report, to give to you my king, and to the ambassador." Brereton respectfully said. Henry looked at him critically at first then smiled at him. "Oh of course, of course my good friend. Do so immediately. I would like to review the plans with my Queen and Cromwell soon." Brereton took that as a dismissal so he immediately got up, bowed to the two royals, then immediately left the room, as was proper.

An awkward silence immediately took place. "Well _— that_ is all I wish to speak with you, husband. I know you are busy with the state affairs so I should not keep yo _—"_ Anne was cut-offed when Henry gestured for her to stop while he also looked at her stoically.

"Ladies, Smeaton, you may leave. I'd like to speak privately with my wife."

* * *

Author's Note:

Well, I _did_ say that I'd update more frequently. Lol I posted Chapter 8 like 2 hours ago and now here's chapter 9. Hope you guys enjoy and leave a review and some recommendation!


	11. 10 - William

William Brereton hurriedly followed the Lady Jane. They immediately began to walk the corridors together, earning some curious looks from the people who had seen them walking together, seemingly towards the Queen's chambers. He paid them no mind though, for what the Lady had said to him earlier rang to his head.

 _ **"I believe it is regarding a proposal being decided to finality." **_

It made William nervous— _what does that mean, what does Anne mean with_ _" a proposal being decided to finality."_— _what does that imply? Finality? Of what?-_ He took a deep breath as he followed the Mistress Seymour as she leads him to Anne's chambers. _Does_ _it mean that what we had is over?_ He felt... numb at the thought. He knew that one way or another, what they had would surely end because of several factors: mainly because she is still married to his _king_ and that he still is technically her enemy, for they are on opposing sides; she for reformation while William strongly campaigns for the Catholicism to be back in England. He always knew that that day will come... but he thought he had time. Time to spend helping her, comforting her, being with her. ' _But_ ,' William thought bitterly. ' _If she decided that she does not want me anymore, I would not... I could never force myself to her. I would respect her decision with dignity and... and everything will go back to how it was, how it should be_.'

He shook his head, willing himself to rid of such depressing thoughts; he needs to focus now because what Anne summoned him for something that seemed important, but he still felt nauseous. ' _Ending treasonous acts are important'_ He took an inaudible deep breath. ' _Whatever happens, I will be there for her.'_

That was his last thoughts as he snapped out of his daze as he watched the Lady Seymour open the doors that will lead him to the Queen.

* * *

The viol's soft music was immediately heard by William and the Lady Jane. As the Lady entered, William Brereton realized that it is his first time being invited—or summoned— to the Queen's chambers. He would bet that he undoubtedly looks uncomfortable and an obvious nervous wreck. Anne seemed to notice too, for she proceeded to smile softly at him, apparently she had seen his distress and was also a bit amused with his dilemma. "Your majesty, here is Master Brereton, as you've requested." He listened and watched as Anne seemed to wait a second before thanking her. He turned his attention to the Lady, looking for a possible clue as to why Anne seemed to torment her albeit a little. _'Hmmm, this Lady was the one... that the King fancies.. which means that this is the lady that caused Anne's... I remember now.'_ "...I would also ask of you to also go and get my husband, tell him that I have a proposal for him, concerning his natural child, the Lady Mary." those words made William look up to Anne. They will just talk about the charade that they were playing. _"I believe it is regarding a proposal being decided to finality." _

_It makes sense now._ William fought back the urge to let out a relieved sigh. _She will not end... our friendship. At least, not yet._ William stood straighter.

 _'For she still has use of you.'_ A voice in his head that sounds eerily like Chapuys said. William ignored it.

"Come, Master Brereton. I have come up with the most brilliant idea while I was strolling around the gardens after our conversation this morn." William did as she had motioned, and also he stared at her, asking her with his eyes; ' _What are you doing_?'. She assured him with her gaze, seemingly asking him to trust her. He nodded a little, making sure that it was not seen by anyone, could not be seen by any of her ladies except _that_ musician. He turned his head to his left as he eyed the only other _man_ in the chamber. ' _I recall that the whole court recognizes him as a dear **friend** of Anne..._' He decided that such things like the jealous tone of his thought should be criticized at another time, and began to sit back formally, albeit stiffly. He was here for business after all.

"We had been... discussing about a possible match from someone in... Germany, if I recall correctly, my Queen?" William replied, he sounded as if it was true. He just hoped that they had the same country in mind.

Anne gave him her rare genuine smile, "Yes we were indeed talking about the possible matches from Germany," _'ahhh she thought the same then_ ' William gladly thought. "As I was saying, I think I have found the best possible candidate for the Lady Mary's hand." She paused, as if looking at him for _something_ , a reaction mayhaps, then continued. "I am recommending that we formally consider Philip of Bavaria as possible consort for Mary. He is unwed, owns a state in lower Bavaria, which according to my informant, was called Palatinate-Neuburg. He is a duke, therefore a rank _obviously high enough_ for the King's Bastard." He was a little confused then, _informant_?

"He... sounds, well, _acceptable_ I think. But you _know_ that I had talked to Chapuys and he said to not make anything permanent while he visited the Lady Mary in Hatfield." William stared at her intently, willing her to see _— understand_ that new information regarding the Spanish Ambassador.

The door opened and then he was in the Queen's chamber with the _King_. Brereton (and the ladies, he was a bit shocked because it escape to his attention that they were, in fact, very crowded in the chamber) rose to their feet then bowed, only rising when Henry VIII gestured for him and the ladies to sit down. The courtier watched as the King casually slump down in one of the couches. As if he had been here a thousand times, which was only natural because he is, after all, Anne Boleyn's rightful husband. He swallowed, willing himself to focus and not be blinded with irrational jealousy and envy. "You called for me, wife? Seems like you have decided on which random man to give away _my_ daughter to." Brereton and some ladies flinched at the blatant accusation."I thought, and the Master Brereton with the _backing _of the Spanish Ambassador, that the Duke Philip of Bavaria, who owns a state and is a Lutheran, will be a suitable match. Although the later insists that we set nothing permanent."

William watched, fascinated, while the _King_ and _Queen_ of England, _squabble_ ; very unlike how two adults should **act** , like they should be acting. ' _Here are the two most intelligent people he knows, and yet fighting over a thing so trivial_ ' He was fascinated and drawn at their interaction because while they were arguing, he had seen Anne smile as if it made her happy. And the King even let out an insult in the Spanish Ambassador's expense; seemingly not caring or not even noticing that _he_ is here. ' _Its probably only her that can draw such emotions from the King'._ He stole a glance to Jane Seymour and guessed that the plain lady could never stand a chance and could only hope to banter with the King and make him... happy. William wondered if they, Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, still love each other, and what went wrong.. because even after all this time, even _he_ could see that they still had a spark between then; potential to fix things and be back to what they should be. The most powerful and united royals England would've ever seen; equals in everything, and would fight for their love and their country.

William wondered if things were different; What if the Queen Katherine mayhaps died earlier; from miscarriage or whatnot, leaving no issue with the King remarrying, would he have supported the Queen earlier if he had seen the _genuine_ love she had for his King? What would have happened if he saw Anne as she truly is, and not the evil concubine he once thought of her? Would he gladly campaign for her as a new queen? Would he defy his pope and the ambassador? Would he _have_ to, or would they also support Anne?

And what if he had known that the Royals still had a chance to fix everything, Would he, a courtier, still would have fallen for her, would he be in this situation?

He watched, contemplating, as the banter between the royals turn to a more serious and problematic tone. William was then reminded of the things that causes a mix-up between them. _The lack of a crown prince and the Princess Mary's existence, for one,_ he thought.

He looked at the Lady Seymour once more and thought, ' _And of course, the existence of his Majesty's mistress is not helping_.'

Brereton decided that he should remove himself, before things got more intense. "I will prepare a report, to give to you my king, and to the ambassador." Henry looked at him critically, as if deciding if he was... a threat, then smiled at him. "Oh of course, of course my good friend. Do so immediately. I would like to review the plans with my Queen and Cromwell soon." Brereton immediately got up, bowed respectfully to the two royals, then immediately left the room, as was proper.

After being dismissed, he immediately ran to find the Spanish Ambassador to inform him of the development regarding the Lady Mary's possible husband. He just hoped that he reached Chapuys on time and that he was not already travelling to Hatfield.

* * *

"What did you want to talk about, dearest Husband?" Anne nervously joined her hands. Henry dismissing Mark and all her ladies means that he wants to talk about something crucial or that he wants to fight her over something. Either does not sound good to her.

"I heard from a friend that you were seen with Brereton then Seymour this morning." Anne wanted to curse Charles Brandon to hell and back. How dare he report her every move to her husband-

"Whatever lies did Brandon fed you, again?" She snapped at her husband. One of the reasons, Anne thinks, of why their marriage was quite going down now was because Henry listens to his friend's opinions of her too much, not realizing that they are lying because they are her enemies. "What-?" Henry actually seemed confused as he asked her.

She stood to her feet while glaring at her Husband. "Don't act like that, my _love_ , it does not suit you. Surely the Duke of Suffolk would only be the one-"

"You have seen Brandon too? Earlier?" Anne was confused. Was Charles not the one who went to him? Who would, then? Her confusion was met with her husband's angry eyes becoming a colder, darker blue.

"You mean he wasn't the one who informed you?" She said, voice filled with uncertainty and shock.

"I was informed by Seymour." Henry paused glaring at Anne. Anne had not expected that and it showed with her dark eyes that expressed her shock at his words. "Why were you with three different men in one morning? Four if I count Smeaton.."

"What? Did you hear your own question? Do you understand the absurd implications of what you said? Do you?" Anne felt hysterical and began to pace back and forth. She began to laugh maliciously then stood her ground again, facing her husband and looking at him right at his blue blue eyes. "You think... You think me _wanton_ because I was seen with four different men? You act as if I was caught doing _unimaginable_ things with them!"

"You said so yourself, you were with Brereton, then you were with Edward, I knew this because his brother told me so... then apparently you were also with Brandon. The first two I already know your connection with them: collaborating with Brereton to find a suitable match for my daughter, Edward asked you about how it was going on... but why were you with Charles?" He came closer to Anne.

"The Duke of Suffolk's has the same reason as why the Seymour approach me. He asked just what I was doing with Brereton. Your friends are clearly so interested in putting their noses on my business. Tell them that I do not need them to watch my every move, for I will _report_ it to you simply, husband." She spat those words dripping with venom at his face. Her irritation at her situation making her throw all the caution she so practiced lately out of the window. She would not hold back from her emotions now, not when she is as pissed as she could be.

She wondered if this is her boiling point, if it is the last of her patience.

"At first, I just wanted to confront you of your plans. You were seen talking to not just one but two of your known enemies. But now that I know that Charles was also with you... He would never turn on me but why.." She turned her back on him, not wanting to hear anymore, tired of always defending herself _even_ with her husband; the man who _should have_ always always have her back. "I... just don't know what to think anymore, Anne. What are you doing, are you making them turn on _me_?" He said asked softly, as if he was tired too.

Anne felt like crying once more, what had happened to them? They were happy once— so happy. At one moment in time, it seemed so long ago now, Henry had made her _the most happy,_ in all of England, but now... She put both her hands on her face and breath deeply. "I am tired, and I know that you are tired too your Majesty. Let's.. Let us talk about this another time. When we're both feeling better." She sat down again then looked at him, her dark dark eyes hiding the tears she would shed later.

Henry let out an aggravated sigh then, "You know that we would not resolve our problems if you kept on being secretive, but—" He seemed to not want to reprehend her anymore for he stopped. He just looked back at her coldly then took his leave.

* * *

The ladies of Anne immediately began to gossip to themselves as when they had left the Queen's chambers, leaving the King and Queen to their business. Unfortunately, their _whispers_ weren't exactly quiet and by late noon, rumors about what the royals talked about was spread all thorough the court.

"I heard she tried to betrothed Mary to a monarch from Germany—" William looked back at the group of courtiers, he had even heard some of them gasp. Curious to what they think about the Queens decision, and amazed at how fast the news had spread, he decided that he would come closer and listen discretely. "Betrothing a Spanish Infanta's child to a Heretic monarch!" One of the courtiers exclaimed, clearly scandalized. "I have heard more alarming news, I tell you, some claimed that the man she saw fit was barely a monarch, a _Baron_ they say, a Baron!"

William Brereton frowned and decided that he should correct them, for he does not want Anne's reputation to be damaged, and the Pope will have his _head_ if he let false gossip to make it seem like he, _a_ _nd therefore the Spanish ambassador_ , had let Anne betrothed Mary to an undeserving man. "Excuse me, Madam, and to you, dear _lords_ , for I can not help myself but correct you for you are clearly misinformed. I should introduce myself to not seem.. **_rude_** ," He said then critically looked at the now seemingly embarrassed courtiers. "I am William Brereton, perhaps some of you know me as the Spanish Ambassadors' ally and the one that _Queen Anne_ was communicating with the subject of the Lady Mary's marriage prospects. The King would probably make a court announcement sooner rather than later but I can not let you spread anymore false things. I was there when the Queen set our case to the King, and we had set up for the King's... natural daughter with a _Duke_ from Germany."

The faces of the courtiers were priceless. He did not know if they were more surprised to his revelations or more shocked at what he just referred the Lady Mary, although he did not have a single care for such thoughts. "Nothing is set, of course, but the Spanish Ambassador and I would **never** set the Lady with a _low monarch_." He said while glaring fiercely to the lady who had claimed that they planned to give Mary's hand to a _baron_.

"I... We apologize, my lord. We were simply just talking about what we heard—"

"Then please start talking about what I told you madam, for one must spread the _truth_." He looked at them once more then decided to proceed to his rooms. He was tired, he just managed to talk with Chapuys right before the Ambassador left for Hatfield. William had delayed his travel by approximately two hours but it was worth it. The Ambassador had seen no problem for nothing was permanent and it was a good start for the Lady Mary to be considering a Duke for a husband, granted the said Duke was a heretic but all is good for the Philip of Bavaria is a Duke, nonetheless. He was tired and just wanted to sleep. This day was indeed taxing for him, to say the least.

As he walked away, he did not see that the said courtiers had looked at each other, with eyes wide filled with the knowledge they had just got, then they all broke away. The courtiers decided that they should go and begin to do what the Brereton had said (even if William did not explicitly said to spread the _truth;_ as he called it, the courtiers would have spread it anyway, for it was an exciting development of things.)

By night time, the whole court knows that the Queen was setting up the _bastard_ Lady Mary Tudor to a high Duke of Germany. The court was filled with buzzling excitement and speculation, the whole court was also loud, for each of the courtiers had different opinions on the matter. "... and I certainly did not expect that the Queen Anne would care about the Prin— the Lady Mary like that!" "A duke for a bastard, a duke!" "I wonder who she would betrothed to her _daughter_ then, surely a King! For she wanted a duke for her Husband's other daughter!" "She is not as bad as they said, I guess" "For the first time, she seemed to have done well with her influences."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

I originally planned to update on December 17—coz thats exactly one month after I started this fanfic, but I was distracted with all the celebrations going on because Catriona Gray, the representative of (my country) Philippines won the Miss Universe *insert heart emoji* also I was a bit feeling lazy because its the holidays.. And I was busy fangirling because my other favorite Tudors fan fics, Black Heart and House of Fools, both updated! I'm so happy! Anyways sorry if there are errors (I did not thoroughly reread it for my eyes are hurting I wasn't wearing my glasses while writing—) annddddddd don't forget to review and recommend!


	12. 11 - Petals

It was a rather chilly morning for a late April. William immediately deduced when he stepped out of his chambers, away from the warmth of his hearth. _'Chillier than the normal freezing temperature that is._ ' He thought grumpily as he began to walk his way to the garden, where he and Anne would usually begin their 'morning routine'—which is striving to appear completely determined and focused on discussing the Princess Mary's marriage prospects. He was glad that almost all of the pretending is over; after all, it is only natural that they will now truly begin discussing which angle to proceed in order to convince the Duke of Bavaria to accept a political marriage with a bastard of a monarch of an isolated country.

' _If Anne and I would truly be busy thinking about political marriages and what not_ ,' William began to realize as he neared the gardens, he unknowingly slowed down his pace. '.. _.there wouldn't be time for getting to know each other more... Physically_ ' He felt himself be flustered at his thoughts.

For the past approximately three weeks since his friendship with Anne unexpectedly but fortunately bloomed out of seemingly nowhere, the stolen moments between them only began since he kissed her the night of her fight with her husband—give or take a little over a week ago. Afterwards, there have only been stolen kisses and lingering touches because they were busy being mindful of just how treasonous their acts are and careful in making sure that there is absolutely no one to witness them committing such improper acts between a Queen and her Husbands privy council.

William felt the need to slightly shook his head, in order to more urgently and abruptly remind himself that he shouldn't be disappointed, _Anne's safety is what's important, most important, so many are at stake; if they made a single mistake, if he became careless and affectionately show her—express to her—his feelings, when anyone could see..._

He forcefully snapped out of his thoughts, not liking the darkness creeping and clawing its was to his head.

' _Everything will be alright, everything will be as it should be. We are careful, nothing bad will happen. Nothing..'_ William repeated the mantra over and over until he entered the gardens.

* * *

Anne closes her eyes as she stands over the open window. She breaths deeply as the cold winds brushes her face, seemingly comforting her and easing her fears.

Anne opens her eyes and absentmindedly began to hum a tone of a lullaby from her childhood that she also wanted to sing to Elizabeth, although she did not get the chance. She looked ahead and busied herself with her thoughts, she knows that William will be there in their secluded garden and will be waiting for her. Usually, by this time she will already be near the gardens and then they would begin to spend time with each other. He would usually offer his arm to her then they will begin their stroll to the gardens. William would be the first to share some thoughts and ideas of his—completely not related to neither of their (queenly and courtly) duties— he would tell her his experiences, memories and opinions on various topics.

William would just tell her plainly, share to her— an honest effort from him in order for to understand him deeply— for the sake of getting to know each other. Anne liked that. She would reciprocate by then share her opinions on different matters, sometimes she would even share tales of her own—her childhood, her time in Austria then France, and her moments of with her heart, her dearly beloved darling—her Elizabeth.

Both of them would avoid mentioning anything that would be related to her husband.

"Majesty, would you like for us to prepare your clothes for when you'll go to the gardens.. later?" Anne turned to the bowed figure of one of her ladies—probably one of the new ones; for her name does not immediately pop in her mind.

'Reminiscing of my times with my dear Will must have took longer than I thought' Anne absentmindedly and amusedly thought. She figured that she might have been near the window for longer than what was appropriate and good for her health if one of her newer ladies grew concerned and would dare disturb her of her moment of peace.

"There will be no need. I think I would like to rest some more. Lately I have been feeling so tired."

She would not be seeing him today. Or be seen alone with him, in private or in public, for the unforeseeable future. There always has to be someone with them, a chaperone of sorts.

After all, her talk with her husband yesterday made her realize something. The Queen of England realized that the end of the day, she could not bare the thought of bringing him down with her.

At first she was determined to bring him down when she had fallen out of his majesty's grace. But Anne had gotten to know him and he had become her friend—a dear friend. He was the one who comforted her and made her feel relaxed. When they gave a try to their friendship, at first William was stiff and doubtful of her, but slowly, as they got to know each other, see each other in a new light, they had developed a bond—he had became one of her closes and dearest friends. Anne Boleyn sees William Brereton as someone precious to her. She knows she must have been obvious in her regards for him because so many had become suspicious of their relationship: Suffolk, Seymour, the court... and her Husband.

Henry is already suspicious of them and she can not have that, afford that. She will have to slowly cut William off so that he will be safe. She would make it appear that now that they are done with their goal, they would not be seeing each other frequently like before. Afterwards when Henry had cooled down and set his cold eyes somewhere else, she would arrange a meeting with Will and explain her decision properly—like she should have done now.

As Anne began to lay in bed, she settled with a feeling of gladness overtaking her, comforting and relaxing her. She was glad that her treason at least did result to this one good thing—her genuine new found friendship with an unlikely man.

(Although all good things will end.)

She placed her hands over her stomach, caressing it softly and began her descent to sleep.

* * *

He felt he had been here for hours on end, or maybe he _really have been_ here for hours, almost all. ' _But it would not make sense, not at all..'_ William miserably thought as he began to buried his face on his hands, trying to convince himself that _no Anne wouldn't do this to me, at least she wouldn't do this to purposely hurt me... she—she wouldn't do that, not to me.._

(' _She just didn't want to tell you herself that she is **done** with you. She wants you to have the benefit of the doubt._' A voice in his head sneered at him. He did his best to ignore it but it was too loud and he was weak—too exhausted from all the waiting he had done.)

He suddenly froze, realizing that _Anne would do this to me if she planned it.. if its... if it is for the better. Maybe... I hope, if not..._ He removed his hands from his face then straightened. ' _For a reason... she did this for a reason, there has to be an explanation.. If not.. if there is no explanation at all, then maybe I do not mean as much as I thought I was to her.'_

He shook his head lightly, hoping to get rid of the bitter thoughts that was the fruit of his anger and desperation of his situation. Whatever reason she had for not coming, it does not change the fact that he should leave and spend his time more productively, to work for his assigned task, assigned by his King.

He had wasted too much time as it is, there is no point in thinking of the what ifs and maybes.

Not anymore.

* * *

Edward Seymour is bored out of his mind, making his usually patient attitude disappear out of thin air.

He had been watching the courtier for a few hours now, his beloved wife already left him after the first hour or so. Edward and Anne Seymour had entered the gardens right after their luncheon with his family. Edward had decided that such was the right thing to do so that it would seem like he and his wife are just strolling and affectionately bonding with each other after a wonderful lunch with his family.

Obviously his wife has a different sentiment entirely—or too correctly deduced if he was being honest. _ **"Oh, desperate to see your beloved queen are we, darling? Or more concerned with withholding the farce of us seemingly having a happy union, better than your last one? Of you seemingly trying to make this marriage work?"** _His wife's faux innocent tone replayed on his head, grating his impatience even more than it already is. Her other retort also irritates him even more. ** _"I do not know which is worst, pretending to be strolling like the lovers we are,"_** she paused to roll her eyes, **_"or pretending to be just fine with each other with your obnoxious little brother and boring mistress of a sister. On a serious note, I wholeheartedly understand your fascination with Queen Anne if the company you grew up in is like that."_**

' _He has been waiting for hours, I have been waiting for hours, when will he realize that she is not coming?'_ He thought gloomily as he watch the Spanish ambassador's dog sulk in one of the benches in the garden center, both hands covering his face. He turned his head elsewhere, tired of seeing the pathetic figure of William Brereton. Edward focused his attention to the remaining courtiers in the garden. ' _Almost all of the lords and ladies who were here earlier were gone now. The remaining ones are only here witnessing him trying to not fall apart and gossip about the possible reason why—'_

"Do you think he failed at something regarding the arrangement for the Princ—Lady Mary's marriage?" Edward immediately became alert when he heard one of the ladies near him. At first he thought it was he who the lady was addressing but when he tilted his head discreetly to the direction where the voice came from, he saw that the lady was addressing the company she was walking with: the duke of Suffolk's wife.

Catherine Brandon.

 _'Ah, interesting.'_ Edward slyly thought. He made himself as inconspicuous as possible and listened to what the Duchess had to say.

"I have heard, and I know that you do too, that he had succeeded in finding a match from Germany, meaning he did not fail at all. He should celebrate I think but mayhaps he has just realized the consequences of his machinations, betrothing a Princess to a Heretic." Edward straighten his posture as he heard their footsteps become closer to him.

He looked up just in time to see the Duchess' eyes on him, seemingly analyzing him, then nodding at him, recognizing his presence. He did the same and smiled his little secretive smile.

They are allies, and they will both make sure that whatever fallout between Brereton and the Queen would lead to Jane's benefit.

Edward rose to his feet as the pair of ladies were a good distance away from him, apparently they were leaving because Brereton had also rose to his feet and was now halfway towards the castle.

 _'The show is over is seems, and what a waste of time_ '. He thought as he began to walk towards his family's apartments—the opposite direction of the ladies and the distraught courtier.

* * *

It is close to dinner time, about a hour at most. The sun is setting and is casting a beautiful deep orange light to the gardens.

Anne walks through the abandoned garden with a relaxed pace, stopping sometimes to closely examine some of the flowers. She had risen from her sleep and went here when she had known for sure that Will already left. ' _It is a rather cold afternoon for spring, and William hates feeling cold..'_ She absentmindedly thought as she fingers one of the roses, remembering some of his stories from his childhood.

"I would miss that." She softly said, while watching the sun slowly disappear out of her view, not gone from the horizon yet but was hidden by one of the structures of the castle. She felt a rush of sadness and looked down, deciding to pick one of the most beautiful rose and remove its petals. ' ** _I will miss him.'_**

The petals fall near her feet.

Anne was entirely occupied and busy plucking the petals from the rose, that she did not notice that the only other occupant of the deserted garden was watching her.

* * *

Thomas Cromwell watched his once-ally, silently planning how he would proceed with his plans—where the Queen would be the one most affected by it all.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

So I did my research and apparently the average late April temperature in London was like, mid-40 degrees Fahrenheit; 7-8 degrees Celsius! (I find this really crazy because the average april temperature in my country is like, 30 degrees Celsius; 85 degrees Fahrenheit). Anyways, I figured that the temperature during the 16th century is far colder because there's no Global Warming, Hampton Court is by the river and what not.

Please don't forget to leave a **review**!( Also if you're interested in Johanna Mason and the Hunger Games, I tried to write a fic about her.. so check it out? )


	13. 12 - Most Deserving

**Author's Note** : I'm sorry for this late and tragically short update!

* * *

"He did _what_?" George Boleyn turned away from her sister for a moment. His eyes scanned the faces of the ladies surrounding them and looked for the warm brown eyes of the only one he trusts- _the only one that_ both _he and Anne trusts_ \- the Queen's principal lady-in-waiting. When his dark blue eyes found them, the viscount immediately motioned for Nan to lead the other ladies-in-waiting away from them- and perhaps busy themselves elsewhere with chores or whatnot. After receiving a subtle nod, Nan Seville bowed and led the other ladies-in-waiting to the outer chambers; with the Lady Jane Rochford being the last to leave and seemingly paused to suspiciously glare at the interaction between Nan and her _dear_ husband.

When all the other ladies are gone and the two of them are left alone, George Boleyn subtly shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other- it was the only visible sign of his discomfort to be the one to bring the news to his dearest queenly sister; most importantly, to be the unfortunate one to be at the receiving end- _center focus-_ of Anne's blazing, undoubtedly furious, dark eyes.

 _'Oh being the queen's brother is fun, indeed'_ he thought sarcastically, as he fought the urge to squirm as his sister continues to glare at him from her seat.

"His majesty assigned Brereton as his ambassador to Bavaria-his mission is to observe the Duke Philip, to see if he is worthy to be granted of the Lady Mary's hand in marriage," he paused then- hesitating to continue but knew that he had to, it was his job after all. "His Majesty thought that since William Brereton was the one who... aided you to find a suitable match for his... eldest daughter, then he is indeed most deserving of the... honour."

 _'Even if I was blind_ ,' the viscount mused as he watched as his sister stood up abruptly from her _comfortable velvet office chair_ -as he had taking a liking to call it in his head- to start pacing in front of him., ' _I would surely still be able to sense and_ see _Anne's anger_.'

A few days ago- after William Brereton apparently announced the identify of the Lady Mary's possible husband to the entire court- he had noticed that his sister was subtly but surely distancing herself from the courtier. He knew that Brereton was most likely one of the- or currently **_the_** only one- to be his sister's... lover.

 _('Your married-to-the-king's sister has a lover, how can you let that be, my love' a voice oddly sounding like his Mark chuckled in his head. He tried to choke out the sudden sigh that found its way to his mouth)_

"I kept my distance because I don't want Henry's eyes on Will, and yet this happens!" The queen distressedly, and a bit hysterically, rambles. George honestly wanted to be as far as possible because his dear sister Anne looked like she was ready to pick up the closest antique vase and threw it away-shattering it to pieces- at the direction of most likely- possibly close to where he is standing at the moment.

His sister and Queen suddenly stopped- to seemingly pause and breath in-and-out for a while. Anne abruptly turned towards him and then proceeded to walk to him. For a moment he was genuinely preparing himself for a slap- _or a verbal lash out at least-_ until he looked at his pretty sister's face again.

What he saw saddened him; for she looked drained then, as if all the fighting was stolen from her. She stopped walking when she was right there in front of him, looking up to him- her eyes says it all even before she had spoke.. conveying her emotions she would try to put in words. "At first I... got close to him because I wanted to hurt him George, I wanted revenge; I wanted to- my purpose was to hurt him- drag his name to the mud as my enemies had done to mine- but now... it is- it is not like that at all, not anymore. I learned to care about him, George. He is my friend, and he is being sent away."

George reached out to his sister and pulled her close for a hug. He wrapped his arm around her and she snuggled towards him- seeking comfort.

He is not sure if she was crying but he began to slowly caress her head to her upper back- just in case. "Hush Anne, you know that he will comeback. Brereton will just observe the Duke Philip for a while, exchange letters to report to us, and then he'll comeback here- with Duke if we are lucky and the King approved. He will probably be back in no time," the part he said last was a lie- they both know that, just as well as they know that travelling to France took time- and the German leagues are farther than the french shore- but he said it still, in order to give Anne-his distressed little sister- a small comfort; however faux it may be. "Do not worry about it too much. You have been stressing for it as if it was something important, if I didn't now any better I'd think you are pregnant."

George attempted to lighten but the mood with his jest but any hope of comforting Anne disappeared when she stiffened in his arms.

He looked down to see his sister's wide eyes staring back at him- shocked and seemingly began to realize something.

The Viscount of Rochford began to truly panic then- the arms that hold her and comforted her moments ago fell back to his sides. "... You aren't, are you?" he questioned disbelievingly.

The Queen of England leaned away from him, dark eyes looking away from him.

"I don't know George. I don't know."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** again, I'm sorry for this late and tragically short update! I really got stuck with a writer's block and I also had a lot going on at the moment... with finals are coming up and all that jazz! But then last night I couldn't sleep and sort-of randomly got this idea that I certainly had to write so here it is! Hope you guys leave a review and recommendation, because I really need them right now! (And hopefully i won't fuck up and take two months and a few days to post the next chapter again...)


	14. 13 - The Former Ally

Thomas Cromwell stretched his arms and leaned back on his chair. He just finished reading and compiling all of the documents that would need to be reviewed- _and hopefully approved_ -by his majesty. ' _The tides are turning quicker than expected_ ,' the King's secretary mused as he looked at the window to his right. It would have provided an excellent view of the setting sun if not for the seven-storey buildings that is part of the ginormous Whitehall palace. _'What a long way I've come.'_ Cromwell smirked in satisfaction. He rose from his chair and went to prepare himself a goblet of wine, toasting to himself for his successes.

His father, a mere blacksmith, surely wouldn't have thought that his son would rise so high up- and _higher still_ it seems.

Thomas Cromwell had earned his place at court- through skill and intellect.

Being apt in choosing the right ally to side with truly is a useful skill.

It has been three days since William Brereton began his journey to Germany, with the goal of securing a German duke for the King's former legitimate child. _'Months ago I had been willing to help them bring Anne Boleyn to the tower.. I couldn't never have foreseen this... Anne could still be useful.'_

* * *

 ** _=First Three Months of 1536=_**

At the beginning of 1536, destiny it seems, had set many things into motion. During the first month, Katherine of Aragon had died in Kimbolton House, old and lonely. It seemed that the new year was a happy beginning for Anne and her supporters back then-

but the odds are apparently _truly_ against the Queen's favour.

On the day of the Spaniard's burial, Queen Anne caught her husband kissing her lady-in-waiting while she sat on his lap.

The day after that, her son died.

She lost her husband's fleeting love right after.

 ** _"This king has not spoken 10 times to the concubine… when formerly he could not leave her for an hour,"_**

' _She got what she deserved'_ was what the enemies of the Queen would repeat in court; coming braver and braver as they saw her miscarriage as a sign that God is not pleased- and therefore decided to act by taking away England's half-boleyn prince.

The Queen's supporters said nothing at all- too busy flocking the Seymour Family in hopes of earning the favour of King Henry's new lady love- the pale Lady Jane, when she is permitted to go back to court.

Cromwell hadn't switched sides then though.

* * *

' _She hadn't lost me when she lost her babe- she lost me when she took out her anger on me,_ ' Thomas thought. ' _Anne Boleyn, a fellow intellect, was my closest ally in court; and she would have remained as that- she would have had me on her side along with my support to her Queenship... but she went and ruined it all' when she caused problems by being a nuisance and publicly questioning my desicions regarding the suppression of the monasteries..'_

He had to get rid of her- and it seemed then that destiny is in favour of him. For getting rid of Anne became almost like a child's play to him when she already lost almost all- _when her would-be-son's life lost to a kiss from Jane Seymour to Henry VIII almost a week after the Infanta Catalina died._

Thomas Cromwell was the Queen's strongest ally, until he was not. He valued her rare intellect _(Cromwell recognize it as something_ _rare to see for both women_ and _men)_ ; he valued _even_ their friendship- for she was such an intelligent and resourceful woman, truly a good ally to have- Cromwell just happened value his ambitions more. And she simply got in the way-

He even played with the idea of letting her leave her marriage to the king alive and rich (Cromwell didn't forget Anne's contribution for the reformation, it would be a suitable pay back- he thought once). It all change when she one day Anne dared to come whisper to him _'I would like to see your head fall off your shoulders.'_

He was just returning the favour, really.

By mid-march he entertained talks of possible accusations against the Queen. He offered nothing though- no ideas or opinion- he only listened.

Nothing's been decided until a forth night of such talks- when the Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon, mused of how close the Queen was to some lords at court.

Things had been set in motion then, until the tides suddenly took a different turn.

* * *

 **=Six days before William Brereton's Departure from the English Court=**

The Chief Minister couldn't help but admire Anne Boleyn. She had been gaining favour in _both sides_ of the court with her wise decision to betrothed the Lady Mary to a _Duke_ \- and she also slowly but surely managed to manipulate Chapuy's minion to give the former princess to a Lutheran State- which will further establish England as a reformed country.

Thomas Cromwell was pleased with the turn of events, but he, and according to his spies, some courtiers, are skeptical about the real relationship between the Queen and Brereton.

As a dear friend of the queen, Cromwell took it as his duty to fix this... _mess_.

* * *

He had advised the King to choose William Brereton as his ambassador for _surely the man who is responsible to come up with this match is the only one deserving to have the honour of negotiating for a royal match between England's first daughter and one of Germany's finest sons.._

Thomas Cromwell finished his drink and put down his goblet.

 _'I should request an audience with the Queen..'_ Cromwell thought as he began to walk towards the Great Hall, where the Royal Couple along with the court would have their final meal for the day.

 _All the wrong I might have done to you Anne, I repay now. I could not let a possible ally perish because of mistakes of the heart- not when I still have uses for you_

* * *

 **A.N.:** So hi guys.. Wellll I gotta admit that I kinda messed things up a little.

So as you guys know from last chapter, Anne isn't sure if she's pregnant. A lot of you guys were leaning on the idea that Anne is having a baby Brereton on the way butttt in my mind they never really had sex? As the LadyofPembroke reviewed... they didn't sleep together _yet_. I thought it was clear on Chapter 11: Petals but apparently not... well It's my fault really, that I didn't clarify that after Chapter 4.. looking back, I'm sure I decided to not write that information because I thought it added some mystery to the plot. But seeing that I misguided you made me question my decisions on how to proceed so I'm so sorry for the months of delay.. I'm sorry for the inconvenience but I promise that it won't happen again.

please don't forget to review and maybe leave a recommendation? please help me decide on what to do next! _


	15. 14 - Departure

**Author's Note:** The previous chapter was more like a filler and a little look of the current events from our dear chancellor's perspective... but now here's _everything*_ else!

* * *

The Queen of England has already sent her ladies to bed. They had finished their final duty as her ladies-in-waiting; the task of helping the queen to her bed. Now, her ladies are permitted to have a whole night's rest of their own. _'Or no rest at all, depending on their nightly activities_ ' Anne chuckled at the thought.

 _' The later is highly unlikely though. I bet they're all sleeping soundly now, too tired for anything else— anything more interesting'_ Anne mused as she continues to stare at the canopy of her bed. _'and yet here I am, their very own Queen that they've prepared to sleep—and is way more tired in both mind, body and soul than they'll ever be, still wide awake despite of their hard work to help me ready to bed.'_

She can not sleep in spite of her very exhaust state. Anne felt like she had been in her bed far longer than she actually was—' _It feels like an eternity has passed, but in truth it is only a few hours..'_

If the Queen Anne from before— _a much happier and secured Anne_ , feels tired and a little stressed from a whole day at court or if Henry made an unpleasant decision about something, was asked by anybody about her troubles, she simply would have laughed it off and claim that she does not know the reason of her restlessness.

But the now— the terrified, lonely and _unloved_ by her husband and his people— Queen _does_ know— and there has been so many lies as of late that she couldn't lie to herself anymore.

Anne Boleyn is thinking about _him._

Anne had decided a few days ago that she will not bother to show up— after all, being present during the departure of William to the English soil is not necessary at all. ' _Lord_ _Brereton, he is just Lord Brereton,' _she corrected herself in her mind, wincing a little. Although the court ate up their charade— at least none of the courtiers _dared_ to voice out their doubts _if_ they had one— Anne knew that she would need to act more carefully from now on, and practising precaution in one's mind is as good practice as any.

Afterall, Henry— her husband, her _king—_ was suspicious of them enough that he would send William to a whole other kingdom, in a whole other country _across_ the sea.

 _'He is only Brereton_ — to _me,_ _damn it!'_ Anne hissed in her mind. _'And it is more plausible that Cromwell was the one who orchestrated all of this, Henry was suspicious of them only mildly... but Thomas, he surely nourished those doubts to fruition.. what benefits he could—he aims reap from such endeavors, I wonder?' _

Anne let out a sigh and decided that sleeping is something like an unreachable goal, for she had too much to think about at the present moment. _'Even a moment of peace is sadly unattainable at the moment... At least not before a few glasses of good wine..'_

Anne slowly rose from her bed, making the soft red fabric of her nightgown gently glide across the floor. She walked towards the table where her maids left a variety of drinks; from wines to teas and to just plain water, all to be used for nights like this— nights with not much sleep yet too loud thoughts. It has been happening more and more as months passed— it had come to the point that preparing herself a goblet-full of the best grape wine in England is almost like a nightly ritual of hers.

As Anne was finishing her first refreshing drink of the night, she thought that two or three more goblets of this wont be too bad.

Wine really helps her in nights like this; as stressful nights where being a Queen and being Henry's wife is too much, nights where she worries over things came too often; too frequent— though she had preferred tea over wine for a few months now... ever since she lost her babe—

' _My son,'_ Anne abruptly filled her near empty goblet with another. _'My baby... my_ **prince**.'

She felt the tears caress her cheeks— tears that always, always come when she thought of her lost prince. Her first _son_. Tears unfailingly come when she remembers how she felt the sharp pain—

* * *

 _Anne was abruptly awaken when she felt a stab of pain in her abdomen. When she slowly rose from her bed— wincing all the while as she tries to sit up—_ 'what... is... happening...' she had asked _herself before she saw red._ 'No...no.. not _again_! not my _son_!' She had looked down at herself in horror that faithful day— _she was bleeding heavily— but it was not her blood,_ _ **'no...no...no..'** She_ _laid her hands on where the blood is rushing from— suddenly her hands were full her son's blood, too much blood like he was coming out of her now— but it is way too soon—_

 _It occurred to her then that this is the blood her son is_ losing _.. the blood he has already **lost**..._

 _She knew then, her son wouldn't— couldn't survive.._

* * *

 _'Stop stop stop... think of anything, everything else but... but my babe.._ ' Anne finishes her second drink and hurriedly fills it with another goblet-full. ' _Think of anything... anything else but that..'_ She begs herself. The Boleyn woman then tries to focus her thoughts of the events after her unborn son's demise. _'Think, think, think... anything else...'_

Anne took the bottle of wine on her left hand, while holding the goblet on the other. She began to venture near the fire and sat on the chair across it. The Queen gently laid the bottle on the floor. She looked in front of her—facing the warm hearth of the Queen's Chambers. She gulps down a drink as she squints her eyes around the room, looking for something to make her think of anything, _anything_ else.

She failed to find something distracting. Anne sighed and looked down on her lap where her right hand is, holding her drink. Anne focused her attention on her ornately jeweled goblet— a gift from some diplomat or another; _'probably the french one— what was his name...?'_

The Queen of England began to absentmindedly trace the jewels that glints attractively as as it reflects the fire. _'Beautiful.. the fire brings out the deep blue of the sapphire..'_ Deep sapphire that is very much like the shade of a certain Lord's eyes.

"Oh." Anne remembered the reason of her drinking in the first place.

 _William Brereton_

(The thought of Will is a welcome distraction, compared to being stuck— helplessly reliving her son's death.)

She had seen him around court after his departure was announced— they exchanged glances, looking towards each other a little _too_ long, and exchanged some pleasantries even. Anne was mingling with the other courtiers as she congratulated him on his new status as ambassador right after it was announced at court; a day after her brother informed her of William Brereton's new status appointed by Henry because of the advice of the dear chancellor Cromwell.

Four days have come and gone then— four long days of him busily preparing his belongings, so by tomorrow he will be ready to begin his journey to the port, then he will set sail to the German Countries—leaving the country, and not coming back for at least two _months_.

Anne will misses him, _misses_ him- his companionship and their bond— for every single day since she did not meet with him in the gardens the day after their talk with Henry regarding the Lady Mary's marriage.

She may not love him, but she saw him as a friend. Anne genuinely cares for him and would undoubtedly miss him even more— when he is gone; sent away.

'...sent away...from me..' Anne picks up the bottle of wine and refills her drink again.

Even though she had seen him around the castle for the past week, it is not enough. She and him hadn't _talked_ for so long, talked like they used to—

"Will... william.." she whispered, as if testing the taste of his name on her lips, after she finishes her ( _third_...? _fourth_..?) goblet of wine.

 _'I would be unable to see him for a while..._ ' she finishes her drink, then grabs the bottle and starts filling the goblet again. ' _I should see him tomorrow, say goodbye..._ ' she thinks as finishes with a drink and starts another one— _again_ , almost like a cycle. _'Talk again... like we used to..' like_ a cycle. ' _Thats.. thats what friends would too, if they wont see each other for a long time.._ ' a cycle. "Hmmm William..."

Anne felt her eyes slowly, sleepy flutter.

At last, sleep had come to claim her.

* * *

It is the day of his departure and yet William is standing at the center of his now empty— _or as empty as it could ever_ feel; with only his necessities as well as personal touches here and there removed in this standard _accommodations_ for a man of his distinction or prestige here at Whitehall Palace.

All the things that he decided to bring with him in this journey are already at the carriage waiting for him below. All the things that he would remind him of _home_ when he is away from his travels. From the Whitehall Palace, he would ride a carriage that would take him to the docks at Poole Harbour in Dorset. He would then begin his sail to the German Colonies— to Bavaria.

He had already checked twice if he accidentally left some trinket or another, and he didnt. William doesn't have to stand here anymore, after all everyone at court are all ready for his departure and wish him safe travels. _'Perhaps a certain secretary is more eager to see me leave than most.'_ William thought bitterly. _'I am not looking forward to see his smug face when I know that he was responsible for sentencing me gone in the first place—'_

William shook his head slightly. ' _That reminds me, I need to go see the court and thank them for their well wishes— some truer than others— now. Delaying the inevitable is of no use to me..'_

And yet still he stays.

(As if he is waiting for someone to come here and said goodbye to him privately— and he is.

He is waiting for—)

 _'She wouldn't come— it would be highly improper for the Queen of England to go to a Lord's chamber just to wish him her warm regards..'_ William reminds himself, but still does not move to leave the room.

William Brereton stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. Awaiting for someone who would unlikely come.

(He _hopes_ , nonetheless.)

After a few moments of eery silence, Brereton closed his eyes before letting out a sigh. He turned to face the door, giving up.

A scowl has forming in his face as he hurriedly walks towards the door as he thought ' _I have waited for nothing—'_

Anne Boleyn— wearing her plainest gown he had ever seen her in, but still the most beautiful— is the one he sees when he opened the door.

* * *

"Oh— An— my Queen, I wasn't expecting you," William said, flushing all the while. The scowl forming in his face before is untraceable now.

"Lord Ambassador Brereton, I am glad that I got to see you here before you go.." Anne said as she sent him an amused smile. William Brereton felt his heart swell when he saw a genuine smile of hers directed at him once more, for what seemed like a long time. He was about to invite her inside his chambers before he noticed that Anne wasn't alone.

Noticing William's eyes flash with trepidation, Anne then introduced him to her companion. "My Lord, this is Nan Seville, my most trusted lady-in-waiting and _my friend_. I believe you have already met—?"

"I remember now. She was one of the ladies present in your chambers when the Lady Seymour escorted me there for a meeting with his Majesty."

William's blue eyes looked at Nan as if unsure if she really could be trusted. 'Anne trusts her, and she doesn't waste her trust to those who does not deserve it,' William reassures himself. So the lord ambassador then smiled at the lady in waiting.

Nan immediately reciprocated the gesture, with something akin to amusement in her eyes. William wonders what she is thinking— but decided not to dwell onto it for it is the last day in a long while that he would spend with Anne.

"Come in, your Majesty and my Lady, I am sure that whatever business you have with me requires privacy." William stepped back into the room and held the door open, looking at Anne's eyes all the while.

"Thank you, my lord." Anne smiled again before confidently entering his chambers, her lady friend right behind her— William wasn't able to see said lady sporting a smile of her own though with her head down.

* * *

As the firm thud of the door was heard by the three occupants of the room, William immediately turned to the Queen of England and his heart.

"Anne—" The newly made ambassador said as he moved towards Anne.

"Will—" The queen said as she met him half way and embraced him.

* * *

Nan Seville then moved to the far corner farthest from the two friends— giving them the privacy they needed.

Nan sometimes wonders what it would feel like— finding someone that you want to care, love, and be with— and to have them wanting the same. _'But I hope my story would not be as tragic as their's— as tragic as_ _A_ nne's' she silently mused as she close her eyes and busied herself with thoughts— imagining a faceless dark-eyed man, faceless but somehow familiar. _Comforting_.

* * *

The couple hold to each other for a moment, undisturbed—seemingly unaware— by the presence of Anne's lady and friend. "I think I've never seen you dressed like this, Anne." William said as they pulled apart, although the distance between them is scarce and they are holding onto each other's hands.

William looked at her intently, checking if she is alright, and immediately noticed the bags under her eyes.

William's brows furrowed a little, silently worrying for Anne's state.

Anne didn't notice William worriedly looking at her as she let out a chuckle while letting go of the lord's hands. "I just woke up with a terrible headache from what felt like a sleepless night my lord, please forgive for not being in a queenly attire," Anne looked up again and gently caressed the side of Will's face. "Though now I regret it, for your last vision of me at-least in the coming months, is just my plain self."

"Don't be silly, Anne," William chuckled and held the Anne's hand that is currently caressing in his face. "You have always been beautiful to me."

The Queen of England stopped caressing his face and dropped her hand, instead crossing her arms as she raised a single eyebrow at him.

"Even in the early days?" Anne then cheekily, teasingly, smiled at him, _really smiled_ at him. Both of them remembering the _not so distant past but feels like one_ where he hated her and she sees him as an enemy—

So much had happened then, and now here they stand.

"Yes... even in the early days. Although Chapuy's would bloody murder me if he heard me say that out-loud."

 _Her eyes had captivated him the moment his sapphire eyes made contact with her dark, dark ones._

Anne's laugh is one of the sounds that he would miss the most, amongst other things. _Amongst the other sounds from Anne's beautiful lips._

 _"I will miss you, I think I already miss you.."_

Anne stopped laughing suddenly, wide dark brown eyes looking at him.

Then he realized his error.

William nervously chuckled and said, "well, I haven't meant to say it out loud—"

"No, William it is of no consequence—"

"— but I meant it Anne," The Queen looked away from him. "I will miss you, I will think of you.. and I just want you to now that I—"

"I know, William. Pleas do not— I don't—"

"I—I love you, and I think you should hear it. It— what we are— what we _have_ — did not start with love but it has ended with it— I will be gone for a few months and I know that you did not wish to hear those three words but I needed to say it for I would regret it if you hadn't heard it from me at least once.. And I also want-no, I _need_ you to promise me," William took a deep breath then closed the distance between them, he reached out to held the Queen's chin. "I need you to promise me that you will remember that you are loved— my me, my the princess Elizabeth, my your friends— you are loved, Anne. Just because he doesn— just, just remember, Anne. Do not give up. You are my queen, **the Queen..** " William leaned in and kissed her forehead. "The only Queen of England."

"I... thank you, William. For everything." Anne said as they pulled apart, dark eyes now glistening with unshed tears. "I... I care for you, but I can not _love_ you— _or any other man—_ I can not bring myself— _Henry_ —"

"I know, Anne.. and I understand that. I _accept_ that. Just... if we were— if you were given a chance.. would you try? _with_ me?"

Anne gently wiped the tears that silently rolled on William's cheeks, then said "With you? _Absolutely_."

The Queen and her lover shared a smiled then simultaneously leaned in for one last kiss.

* * *

The Lady Jane Seymour is looking at the departing carriage of William Brereton from the largest window in the King's office quarters. As part of the Queen's ladies, she wasn't required to say goodbye to the recently made Lord representative in the German states. Afterall, the Queen and King, and therefore their ladies and lords in waiting aren't mandatorily needed to say their farewells.

Also, her family advised her to spend time with the King, _with her sweet Henr_ y, and so here she is. His majesty had graciously invited her in his office so Jane had wore her loveliest pale blue dress—to bring out her eyes; _which reminds him of the heavens as he had said before he kissed me_... but the King is hardly paying attention.

She wonders if it is already a sign of disinterestedness, and if Anne had experienced this so early too, in their 7-year courtship.

Though she knew that it was most unlikely, for Henry's interest in Anne only began to fade after 10 years _and_ two dead children. ( _'and a healthy baby girl'_ a voice alike her mother's whispered in Jane's ear—)

"What do you think... Jane?"

Jane almost jumped out of surprise— she let her guard down for she was busy with her private musings. She faced away from the window and looked at the face of her handsome King opposite from her. "Pardon me, but was it, your Majesty?"

King Henry VIII was sitting in his royal desk while looking at her, his hands intertwined in front of him and his brows now furrowed— eyes now intently— _almost glaringly_ — looking at her.

' _Thats what you get for being to distracted and making him repeat himself,_ ' a voice like her eldest brother's hissed at her in her mind.

Jane folded her hands at her back, then pinched herself til it hurts— though her face doesn't show any emotion beside neutral— _though could be mistaken as angelic_ — confusion. She _mustn't_ make that mistake again—she needs to _**focus**_.

She saw how Henry slumped a little, closed his eyes, then sighed. Jane looked at his intertwined hands and saw the grip tighten. _'What did he said_ — ahh.'

"What is it you meant by what I think about, Henry?" She only ever calls him Henry, his _christian_ name, when he wants her to, or when she had done something that he did not like and she had to remedy it saying his name.

The Seymour lady likes the thought that with only a whisper of his name, Henry would stop at everything to hear her out.

 _(She remembers one advice Edward has given her. 'knowing how to appeal to someone by using their Titles and implying just how better they are is important, but remember Jane, you must understand that there is cunning in knowing when to use a christian's name, especially someone only ever referred to as his titles.')_

Henry sighed again, but when he looked at her it is like he sees an angel in her. "What do you think of having a Duke, although a german one, for husband for my bastard daughter?"

Listening to the King refer to the princess Mary as a mere bastard makes Jane want to flinch desperately, but she needs to endure. It is the first time Henry had asked her of her opinion, and therefore giving her a chance to influence him by appealing an idea to him.

If she was the same Jane before she had come here at court, the one he had seen in WolfHall that faithful night, she would've felt bad for not having the purest intention to him.. but she can not help it. She needs to be Queen in order to restore the true faith in England, she will make up all the manipulation when she and her family had won, _she would make it up to Henry by giving him a son and loving him limitlessly._

"I think that giving her hand to a duke of a foreign land, speaks volumes and reflects your kindness and love for her, your majesty." Jane says as she smiles angelically at him.

"Do you not think that it is too much?" Jane didn't expect Henry to continue discussing the Lady Mary, for he had avoided that subject ever since she tried to talk about the betterment of the living arrangements of the _only_ Princess. "Do you not think that I should just give her to a lower lord, a knight perhaps?"

 _Silence_.

Jane is _mortified. She_ wants to scream and shout her defense for the Princess of Wales, but she can not, because Edward would punish her for failing and Henry wouldn't love her anymore if she knew that her loyalties, _and her family's as well_ , lies with the Saintly Queen of England.

 _'But I can not just let sweet Henry make poisoned decisions,'_ She can not let the man she loves do that to his _own blood_.

And so Jane always does what she always does— she settles for an alternative.

(She hates this so much, she hates being weak and playing naive to please people— she is looking forward to the day that she would be crowned and besides her King. She wouldn't— _couldn't_ be pushed and _**puppetered**_ then. Only the King can do that. And it is alright for he would be her husband and king, _and she loves him._

Jane loves him, though Edward would scold her if he knew that. ' _Loving him would be your downfall, dont be a fool, Jane. He would destroy you_ —')

"With all due respect... your Majesty. The.. Lady Mary is still your blood, and she is also a daughter of the late Queen Dowager.. would you want any _less_ than the best for her, your own blood and in some ways.. _your own reflection_ , even though she is a bastard?"

Henry appeared shocked at what she said.

It was silent the first few seconds.

Then he laughed. He laughed like it was the funniest thing she said.

...it is _humiliating_. And the King is still laughing.

Jane felt like she is just an entertainment, a passing fancy.. and it _hurts_ because she knows that it is not like that at all.

(or is it?)

Jane felt the tears build up in her eyes.

But before she could excuse herself, Henry had stopped and looked at her with more interest than he ever did.

Jane felt butterflies in her stomach then.

He looked at her like she didn't just saw the Angel he sometimes calls her— the look he had given her then made her love him _more_.

"Cromwell warned me about you, your family, did you know, Jane?" Jane stilled but didn't say anything. "He warned me that your family is just using you, and they were just scheming to make you my newest Queen..." Henry stood up and walked closer to her. "Did you know what I told him?" The King asked as he closed the distance between them and held his angel's chin.

Jane slowly shook her head, her pale eyes falling to the King's lips as if waiting for him to give her salvation. _Henry loves the way she looked at him, like she is her hero... her god, even._

"I told him I _did no_ t care. For you are _my angel_ and you would give me a son.. I _know_ you would be the one to succeed.. but He insisted that a more political marriage would _also_ give me my heir _and_ a new powerful ally against _España..._ and I agree with him," Henry smiled as he saw Jane look at him with fear in her angelic eyes. "But continue to amuse me, my dearest, and we shall see if you will be the one sitting at the throne besides me." He then leaned for deep kiss.

Jane tries to enjoy and match Henry's skilled mouth but could hardly reciprocate her lover's kiss as she worries with the things he had said. ' _Did he ever tried to threaten Anne.. or even Queen Katherine like this...?' Jane is scared. She doesn't want to lose Henry and her chance to be Queen— to be Henry's only Queen... and yet the things she heard him say— are those the words that she wants to hear from the man she loves... such vile words... to **her**? _

Henry abruptly stopped and let go of her, as if remembering something important. He is looking at her intently, then the King suddenly brushed his finger in Jane's now thoroughly kissed lips. A still confused Jane then leaned herself to him then.

The King of England came closer and kissed her cheek gently.

He moved his lips to her right ear, "You are dismissed now, my Jane. Kindly think about what I have said.. discuss it with your family if you have to."

Jane had a glimpsed of a wicked glint in the King's eyes as she hurriedly exits the chamber.

* * *

It is a little late into the night, but the Queen is wide awake- just like the night before.

though this time, Anne is already standing in front of the biggest window inside her chambers, looking at and seeing nothing in particular.

 _'William would be outside of London now... and farther still after a few more hours,_ ' The Queen mused as she took a sip to her glass of wine that she just prepared. _'After a few days he would be out of England and onto the German palaces—'_ Anne was let out at her stupor when she heard the door to her room creak open gently.

She turned around and saw her husband by the door, looking at her with one eyebrow slightly raised and his amused smirk firmly in-placed. "My, my, I thought you never drink anymore, _dear_ wife."

Anne glared before rolling her eyes at Henry— a gesture that she rarely does anymore; for it is something that she only does when they are alone and something he only allowed or didn't complain about when he feels secure in her opinion of him to not care if it might be considered as disrespectful by everyone else.

Both of them doesn't care at the moment.

"I don't drink anymore, _husband_. I only drank once after— well, I drank wine for the first time in _months_ last night, and you witness my first and last sip for today.." The Queen's mood soured at the thought of the reason why she hadn't been drinking for the past months.

"I find myself not caring if you are drinking or not— as long as you aren't carrying a— _my_ child. And you obviously aren't." Henry was glaring at her then too, it seems that the reminder of what happened a few months back leaves a sour taste in both of the royals' mouths.

"Why are you here for anyways, my love?" Anne mocks him as she places her barely drank wine glass as the nearest table, then she makes her way to her bed.

Henry crosses his arms then, his eyes looking at her more intently as if examinng her—though far away and still leaning on the doorway. "Can't I visit my lovely wife in the night?" Anne chuckles and gently settles herself in a comfortable position on her bed.

"Well you can, but I just thought you would rather _see other lovely things_ to bed than me, _dear darling_." Anne spat viciously.

Henry Tudor then scowls and moves towards Anne. Only stopping when he is a foot away from her bed. " _How_ many times do I have to tell you that I did _not_ and do _not_ sleep with the Lady Jane. She is not deserving of such implica—"

"Husband, don't be too aggravated, I never mentioned you sleeping with anyone let alone that _pale_ _wen_ —"

"DO _**NOT**_ call her that!"

(The King's outburst hangs upon the air. If the tension between them earlier was bad, it was _certainly worst_ now—)

The two (former?) lovers fiercely glared at each other, as if not willing to be defeated by the other.

It held on for a moment before they simultaneously looked away.

"How many times to I have to tell you, Anne? How many times more until you believe me when I say to you that I have not betrayed you by sleeping with Jane?" Anne looked back at him and snapped:

"There are other ways that you betrayed me, my kingly husband."

Silence.

Anne looked back at her joined hands, tracing the one ring she wears even in her sleep. "Why are you here, Henry? What do you want?" Anne tiredly whispered, just enough for Henry to hear.

He audibly sighed before saying, "I don't know."

"Well you can't _not_ know. Just say it, and stop wasting our time. I am tired, and an undisturbed sleep sounds very appealing at the moment."

"Well now that you've said it, I am reminded of a more _interesting_ activity than sleeping.." Henry jokingly said, resulting for Anne unexpectedly laughing at the thought.

"You have the nerve to insinuate that—" Anne chuckles between breaths.

Henry smiled at her, then laughing too.

* * *

Author's note: oh wow the first part's a lot more depressing than I've ever thought I could've wrote. If you guys noticed; When Anne was thinking of the pain of miscarrying, she desperately thought *not again* but she also referred to the boy she carried as her first son.. So in this AU (im not sure if its the same as in the tvshow or in real life too) After Elizabeth, she became pregnant again but lost the baby early— too early to know the gender for sure (though Henry assumes it was a boy), so in Anne mind the child she lost in late January, as the doctors confirmed, was indeed a boy— Henry's would-be heir.

*another note: lol this wasnt everything else im sorry. I had to cut it in half because its too long already! So next chapter: a glimpse in what charles and edward are thinking and planning, respectively.. and William in germany! Stay tuned for the next one i guess!

-💗- thank you so much to all of those who left a review so far! I really really appreciate all 42 of those and I really would have liked to reply to each of those but zi havent got the time :/ So I'll thank you here instead!💕 I love you all!

And well, as usual please leave recommendations (im a sucker for those!) and helpful criticism. Hope you enjoy this story so far!

Also tell me what you think about Jane and Henry! (I personally loved how twisted I wrote them together! Henry is such a monster and I love it!) and also... thoughts on Anne and Henry together! I personally think that theres still chemistry😏


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